Dragon Dreams - The Quest For Pern
by PerneseRider01
Summary: While on a brief survey mission, a team of explorers from the Federated Sentient Planets discovers an ancient message rocket floating dead in space. Who had sent it? Why? Most importantly, where had it come from? Little did one of those explorers realize it would lead to a lost fragment of history and a journey to uncover the truth!
1. Chapter 1 - The Message Rocket

_Dragon Dreams -_ _The Quest for Pern_

By Dana Sterling

Inspired by Anne McCaffrey

"Oh, Tongue, give sound to joy and sing... Of hope and promise on dragonwing.

 _ **Chapter One - The Message Rocket**_

SPACE … infinitely vast, filled with a wondrous variety of stars, planets, heavenly bodies of every description, and phenomenon still not completely understood. Someone once called this the final frontier. They weren't wrong. No matter how far any space‑faring race has pushed back the boundaries of unexplored space, there was still infinitely more to explore.

Stars, pinpoints of light on a velvet curtain of black drifted across the forward viewport. My mind was out there, wandering among those stars, contemplating how many of them had planets. And I wondered, how many of those as yet unexplored systems possessed planets capable of supporting sentient lifeforms. What would these unknown beings look like? What environmental factors would dictate how a given species evolves? What …

The alerting bell, rudely intruding on my reverie, sounded just then from my instrument panel.

"Sector 27 scan results: nominal. No anomalies," I reported.

Humph, I sniffed in disgust. That's how the entire mission had been going … no anomalies. Nothing challenging, exciting, or different. These sector patrols were becoming a ruddy boor.

"Life science scans complete," my partner, Davar, reported. "Results …"

"Nominal," I snorted, disgust evident in my voice.

"What is wrong, J'hon?" Keymon, our Kendite navigator queried.

J'hon was the closest his biped feline race could come to pronouncing my name correctly. But I didn't hold that against him. Keymon was my dearest friend. I'd met other Kendites before; they were all polite and friendly.

"Same old swill, Key," chuckled Davar. "Our illustrious leader here craves a little excitement!"

"The first contact pre‑departure scans are important for the safety of the team members, J'hon."

"I know, Key," I sighed, giving him a smile. "Just wish we'd run across something different every once in a while."

I missed the challenge and excitement of the first contact missions: meeting new sentient species, different cultures, exotic experiences, new ways of thinking. But, the first contact teams operated on a rotating schedule, and at this particular time, our team was on sector duty.

"All procedures complete, Dav? Keymon?"

"Checklist complete, Skipper," Dav replied. "First contact team shouldn't have any trouble day after tomorrow … unless they're prone to boredom!"

"Funny, Dav," I remarked, elbowing him in the ribs and eliciting a satisfying 'Whoof!'. "How about you, Key?"

"I am also finished, my friend. No potential navigation anomalies noted."

"Enough fun for one day. Let's have a vector for home, Key."

"Vector 120 … mark 37," he responded after a quick check of his instruments.

"Roger. Coming about."

Firing up the warp nacelles, I was just about to alter our course when the proximity alarm sounded.

"Belaying that. What have we got, Dav?"

"Metallic object, about 100 kilometers out," he reported, "cylindrical, length about 3 meters, mass about 90 kilos."

"Have we got a visual?"

"Coming up on secondary screen now."

At first, all we could make out was the surrounding starfield. Then, a faint glimmer, like light reflecting off water.

"Magnifying image."

The screen blurred for a moment, then resolved itself into a closer view of the object.

"Not much to look at, is it?" Dav shrugged.

"What is it?" asked Keymon.

"It's an old style distress beacon rocket," I said, answering Key's question. "Last time I saw one of those was on a vid‑disk in our ancient history classes back at the Academy. Used solid or liquid fuels for propulsion, depending on the booster design. Compact, functional, but not very efficient." I shook my head in amazement. "That thing's gotta be over two thousand years old! Where could it have come from, and more importantly, who fired it?"

"Uh oh, Key," cautioned Davar, "he's got that look in his eye!"

Dav was teasing me, of course, but I never could resist a good puzzle.

In the cold, forbidding vacuum of space, dozens of light-years from any known race of intelligent beings, pock-marked and weather-worn, the rocket drifted aimlessly and alone; its past a mystery, like the page of a history book that somebody suddenly discovers is missing.

I was fascinated by this old – no, I corrected myself – this ancient relic. Questions kept coming to mind the longer I stared at it. Who had it originally belonged to? Who had subsequently fired it? Who was it supposed to reach? When was it fired? Where was it fired from and where was it supposed to go? And, most importantly, why was it fired?

"What shall we do, J'hon? Leave it?"

"No. Tractor it into the cargo hold. I'd like to examine it when we get back to port."

"You got it," Davar acknowledged. "Activating tractor beam."

Silently, the beam lanced out to snare the old rocket. Dav, with his usually impeccable skill, deftly tucked it into our cargo bay.

"All secure, Skipper," he reported as the door warning light on the control panel winked out.

"Copy that. We're outta here!"

Firing the maneuvering thrusters to alter our heading to the proper course, I cut in the warp drive, and we flashed away in a blur.

We made record time back to the Altair system, and soon had made orbit around Altair VI. Approach control reported traffic around the spaceport was light, so I asked for and got clearance to practice a power‑off manual approach for landing; considered strictly an emergency procedure.

We practiced it every so often to simulate a complete failure of all shipboard propulsion systems. Energy management was crucial … you were trading altitude for airspeed. With no propulsion systems, it had to be flown precisely or you wouldn't get a second chance. I'd had to do the real thing once when I was a cadet on a training flight, and while I managed to land safely, I found I had soiled my pants when I finally rolled to a stop.

"Approaching high key, propulsion systems going to standby," I advised approach control.

"We copy, Starduster One Niner. Good luck."

"Skipper, is this really necessary?" Dav gulped, the cockpit getting noticeably quieter as I placed all propulsion systems on standby.

"What's the matter, Dav?" I asked, lowering the ship's nose to begin the descent, "afraid you might mess yourself?"

"Me?! Of course not!" but I could see the gill slits on his neck were noticeably flared.

This kind of approach also necessitated a steep descent angle … all you saw through the front viewport was ground.

"Starting our turn," I reported as I slowly banked us to the left.

I didn't look behind me, but I knew Keymon would be sitting there, eyes closed, silently praying to his gods for favor.

"Runway coming into view, looking good," I said aloud as the landing strip slowly appeared through the side viewport.

"Starduster One Niner, be advised that surface winds have begun to swing around to a heading of two four zero degrees at ten knots," the controller reported. "Exercise caution."

"Acknowledged, Approach," I replied. "Understand quartering tailwind on landing. Will adjust. Rolling out on centerline."

With a gentle nudge of the flight controls, I returned the ship to wings level, the landing strip and approach lights visible ahead.

"By the Maker, that looks steep!" Keymon whispered behind us.

"With any luck, Key, you'll never have to do this for real. Beginning landing phase."

I brought the nose of our craft up to a shallower angle of descent to bleed off some of our excess speed. The ground was fast approaching, but our instruments showed our energy state was good. The power‑off approach also meant a faster landing speed than we were accustomed to, but we were well within safe limits, I noticed with satisfaction.

"Starting landing flare," I said, bringing the nose up to check our rate of descent.

"Over approach end, gear coming down," I reported as I moved the gear handle to the extend position.

The sound of rushing air filled the cockpit as the gear doors opened followed by three audible thumps as the landing gear locked down into position.

"Three good gear," I called out, noting the panel indicators all showed green. "Standby."

Gently, I eased the ship down to the runway and felt the main gear make contact. I held the ship's nose up for a moment longer to bleed off more speed then gently lowered it to the runway.

"Nice approach, One Niner," control congratulated us. "Been a while since we've seen one of those. Well done."

"Thanks for giving us a chance, Control," I replied. "I appreciate it."

"We show you going to bay 49 alpha, One Niner. Talk to you later."

We taxied clear of the runway with some momentum to spare, but I brought up the thrusters to take us the rest of the way to the parking bay.

"You can start breathing now, Dav," I told him as the ship came to a gentle stop in the docking bay, "we're home."

"Skipper, next time you get it in your head to try that again," he sighed, relief evident in his voice, "leave me on the ground. Okay?"

"Next time, I'll let you fly the approach, and I'll watch."

Davar blanched, staring open‑mouthed at me.

"Relax, my friend," Keymon assured him, placing a comforting forepaw on Dav's shoulder, "he's just teasing you."

Davar gave me an admonitory look, but I merely shrugged.

"Never could fool you, could I, Key? Come on. Let's get the rocket off‑loaded."

Between the three of us, we easily carried the rocket out of the cargo bay and off the ship, then we placed it in a small utility repair bay where it could be secured until I was ready to examine it.

"Thanks for the help, guys." I said after locking the repair bay door. "If anyone's thirsty, I'm treating."

"Sorry, Skipper," Davar replied, "but I've got a lady waiting for me."

"Which one is it this time?" teased Keymon.

Dav had a penchant for women, and he certainly didn't limit his tastes to one species.

"Ahh! Now that would be telling!" he laughed. "I'll see you later!"

"What about you, Keymon? Some Zondinerite brandy?" I asked as Davar ran off.

"No, my friend. This is the evening of Kiztumei, the time of meditation. But thank you for asking."

"Transcend brightly, then, my friend."

"And you, J'hon."

With that, he left.

Traffic in and out of the spaceport was pretty light tonight, I noted, not many beings about. I stood a moment contemplating the locked bay door.

"No one to drink with … no women waiting anxiously for me."

I shook my head slowly from side to side as I turned the key over in my hand. Sometimes I envied Davar.

"No meditation time to contemplate, and only reheatable dinners waiting in my quarters." That last thought made me grimace. "Guess there's no time like the present," I shrugged as I reached over and unlocked the repair bay door.


	2. Chapter 2 - Pain and Discovery

_Chapter 2_

 _Pain and Discovery_

WHAT STARTED AS MERE CURIOSITY quickly developed into full-blown obsession as I tried to unravel the mystery of the artifact we'd found. Something about it cried out to me for answers, but I soon discovered they would be slow in coming.

Time had not been kind to it. The rocket's surface was pock-marked with micrometeorite damage and encrusted with stellar debris. The problem now was how to remove the encrustation without damaging the faded markings beneath, key to identifying who the rocket had belonged to and where it had come from. But who would have the necessary skills for such a job? It was certainly way beyond my abilities. And then, a flash of inspiration hit me.

The following morning, I took a ground shuttle into Pellenar City debarking in front of the Aquilan Museum of Art and Ancient History.

 _If anyone knew how to restore ancient artifacts,_ I thought, _someone here should._

After some discreet inquiries inside, I was introduced to one Zolpar-Re, a Centauran who specialized in antique restoration.

"Well, Zolpar?" I asked, after explaining what we'd discovered out on patrol. "Can you help me?"

"It might be interesting to take a look at this rocket you found," he mused. "Alright. I'll meet you at the repair bay at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, sir," I said, shaking his hand. "I appreciate this. See you then."

I took a short tour of the exhibits, figuring it wouldn't hurt as long as I was there. I even saw an old rocket very similar to the one we'd found. The display, though, offered no information about the rocket's origin or what it was used for. Still, I was heartened by the time I returned to my quarters. I had found someone who could help me, and I felt that much closer to solving the riddle of that ancient rocket.

Zolpar was as good as his word, arriving at the repair bay precisely at 9 o'clock the following morning. After some initial analysis of the rocket's surface, we began the time-consuming process of reconstruction in the hope of raising enough surface details to make out some of the rocket's identifying markings.

Initially, the Centauran was intrigued by the artifact, working long and hard with me on the rocket's restoration. But as time dragged by and the restoration process became more complex and involved, he quickly lost interest.

We'd been working on the rocket for about a month, when, letting out a long sigh, Zolpar sank wearily into a nearby chair, rubbing his knuckles into red-streaked eyes.

"I'm sorry, John," he sighed, "but I think you're wasting your time."

"Oh, come on, Zolpar, we're making good progress! Look here! You can just begin to make out some of the …"

"John, …" he muttered, shaking his head, "it's not worth it."

"But why?"

I was appalled! The thought of not learning the secrets of the rocket's origin …

"I've seen several other rockets similar to this one. None of them proved to have any real historical significance. And this one is in terrible shape."

"But …"

"I'm sorry, John. I just can't spare you any more time."

My heart sank even as Zolpar rose to leave. Masking my frustration and bitter disappointment, I escorted him to the door.

"Well, I appreciate your help, anyway, Zolpar," I said as I opened the door for him. "Thanks for trying."

"Good luck, John."

And with that, he was gone. I closed the door behind him, taking deliberate pains not to slam it.

"You may have given up, my friend," I hissed, exasperation and determination seething within me, "but I'm far from through."

"You and I are going to get to know each other very well, my little riddle wrapped in an enigma," I said aloud, returning to the workbench where the ancient rocket rested.

Time passed slowly, and I gradually found I was spending more and more of it in the repair bay; slowly, patiently, deliberately removing the debris from the rocket's surface. Word of my quiet diversion soon filtered through the ranks of the Star Service. Perversely, as it did, I became the brunt of jokes and snide remarks from members of the other first-contact teams. They taunted and ridiculed me without surcease, sometimes painfully merciless in their cruelty, hurting me deeply. In the quiet of my quarters, some nights I'd find myself gently weeping, remembering the day's taunts. But, the louder or crueler they got, the more the rocket seemed to cry out to me, so I forced the pain aside and ignored my tormentors. Which only served to frustrate them and spur them to new heights of taunts or new depths of cruelty.

Through it all, Davar and Keymon remained my friends, standing steadfastly by my side. The test of that friendship came one day in the mission briefing room after a particularly vicious and vulgar remark from one of the other first-contact team members. Davar, who had remained silent all this time, leaped to his feet to confront the offender.

"By the Seven Pillars, Temerk! That's vile, even coming from you!" he stormed, facing the taller and more muscular Denebian.

"In spite of everything you may think, John's obsession has never caused him to shirk his responsibilities to the team, nor has it interfered with any mission we've been on," Dav went on, his gaze sweeping the rest of the people in the briefing room. "Let's not forget it was John's diplomatic tact that won us the cultural and scientific exchange rights with the K'trellan race when some of you others failed in the attempts!"

Temerk bristled at that reminder; he'd been a team member on one of those failed attempts. He was strong, far stronger than anyone in the room. I was afraid I was going to have to peel my friend off a wall, but the Denebian merely turned and huffed off to his seat.

"J'hon is on a knowledge quest," added Key in my defense. "Whatever his reasons, it is unworthy of any being to ridicule the seeking of knowledge."

"Key, only you could find John's bizarre obsession rational!" laughed Jolara, others in the briefing room joining her.

"I did not say it was rational," he countered. "The quest for knowledge can sometimes cause one to behave irrationally." Keymon then came and stood before me, placing his forepaws on my shoulders in the Kendite gesture of comradeship. "But when the quest will not be denied, it takes courage to set foot on that chosen path. I wish you well on your journey, Ch'har."

Ch'har … the Kendite word for brother. Keymon's people very seldom addressed members of alien races by that honorific title. I smiled, returning his gesture of comradeship.

"Thank you, Ch'har Keymon De'Resarth," I said. "Wherever my journey leads me, whatever I must do, know that I will always remember you and will treasure our friendship."

"Transcend brightly, my friend."

"And you, also, my friend."

"John!"

It was Commander Zithrire, his voice booming from the briefing room doorway.

"Sir!" I responded.

"My office … now!" as he turned and left.

"Nice knowing you, John!" Jolara called out as I got up to follow him.

I glanced over at her, but merely shrugged and shook my head before following the commander out.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" I asked as I entered his office.

"Sit down, John," he said, pointing to one of the comfortable chairs next to his desk.

I took the seat indicated then turned to him.

"There's something wrong, isn't there?" I inquired, noticing the nervous twitch of his mustache.

"It's this obsession of yours, John," he replied, leaning forward across his desk. "It's become a real disruption among the other first-contact teams."

"But why should it be bothering them?" I inquired, somewhat confused. "They're not the ones involved. And I've never let it interfere with my team's missions."

"I know, John," replied Commander Zithrire, "and you've been a good team leader, too. But I can't afford to have any further disruptions. Team cohesion is beginning to break down and so is their efficiency. Either give up this obsession of yours or give up the Service. I'm sorry."

"So am I, Commander," I replied, rising. "That your final word?"

"Yes."

"Then here's mine," I told him, ripping off my Star Service patch and first-contact team commander emblem and laying them on his desk. "Effective immediately, I resign my commission from the Service."

"You know what you're giving up …"

"No less than you would know if you gave up yours."

Commander Zithrire sighed, nodding.

"We'll miss you around here, John."

"Key and Dav are good first-contactors, Commander. Just make sure my replacement is as good as they are."

"We'll try, John," he said, rising, offering me his hand. "Good luck to you."

"Thank you, Sir," I replied, shaking his hand.

Snapping him a sharp salute that he just as sharply returned, I did a smart about-face and marched out of his office.

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Dav exclaimed, beside himself with astonishment.

"Quit the Service," I repeated as I was gathering up my things.

"You can't be serious!" Dav said, grasping my arm.

"Look at his face, my friend," Key said, pointing at me. "He knows what he's giving up."

"Look at it this way, Dav," I joked, snapping the strap closed on my carry case, "you won't have to sit through another of my practice emergency approaches!"

"You are a fool, John," Jolara spat, her tone rankling. "You'd throw away your entire career for what… a rusty old rocket nobody even wants. Tch, you disgust me!"

"I never expected you to understand, Jolara," I replied, slinging my case over my shoulder. "Something like that takes imagination. After the K'trellan incident, it's obvious that's something you don't possess!"

Jolara would have leaped across the tables to scratch my eyes out, but Temerk's strong hand shoved her back in her seat.

"No!" he cautioned Jolara, barring her way. Turning, Temerk slowly made his way around the tables to confront me.

Taller again by half than I, he glared down at me while the others moved back a fair distance expecting a fight. But, …

"No, he is right, Jolara. He and his team succeeded where we failed. Perhaps in this, he will succeed as well." Having said that, he offered me his hand. "I wish you good fortune in your search, John."

"Thank you, Temerk," I replied, shaking his hand. "Now I know I will succeed."

"Take care of yourself, Skipper," added Dav, offering his own hand. "It won't be the same around here without you."

"I'll miss you, too, my friend," I said as I shook his hand. "Just make sure you take as good care of your new team leader as you did me."

"Count on it!" Dav smiled.

"J'hon …"

"Choon nol, zu Ch'har," I said, speaking in Keymon's native language. "Dostalanu ye zu kitchie!" Grieve not, my brother. Knowledge is my destination!

"May the Spirits watch over you and guide you, Ch'har," Key replied, clearly touched by my words.

"Transcend brightly, my friend," I smiled, clasping his arm.

"Good luck, …" and with some effort, "John."

Turning quickly to hide the tears that welled up in my eyes, I left the room, my friends, and my life in the Star Service behind.

It took nearly six months of patient work, in between holding down a job as a LEO-GEO shuttle pilot, but I finally managed to remove enough of the stellar debris from the rocket's surface to obtain a partial identification marking. While the partial marking was insufficient to identify the owner, I was able to obtain the rocket's manufacturer.

"Bolston Aerospace," I read off the computer screen, washing down my breakfast with some synth-juice, "incorporated by Federated Hypershuttle circa …" A long, low whistle escaped my lips as I read the date. "Over two and a half millennia ago! That was around the time of the Nathi wars."

An old puzzle, indeed.

"Wonder if Federated's got any of the old records from Bolston that would show who the rocket was made for?" I pondered aloud, keying the request into the computer.

A couple of buzzes, a whir, then a beep and the response scrolled up on the screen.

"Federated Hypershuttle … now Federated Trans-Stellar Conglomerate," I read aloud. "Computer data files not available prior to system incorporation two millennia ago."

"Damn!" I cursed, thumping the top of the terminal. "Now what?"

It seemed as if I'd reached a dead end.

"Wait a minute!" I exclaimed, snapping my fingers before keying in another sequence. "Maybe computer data files aren't available, but what about other forms of records?"

The next morning found me on an FTL transport headed outbound from the Altair system … destination Earth!

"Home!" I sighed, staring out the portal, marveling at the colorful Doppler shift of the stars racing by. "Haven't been back there since the folks left it when I was just a child."

I had only vague memories of the place and all the stories my mother had told me about the syndicate-ridden technocracy and its ever-spiraling need for resources.

"It used to be so beautiful," she once told me. "They ruined it."

"Wonder what it looks like now?" I pondered, for Earth was where the rocket's trail led.

The computer readout had been encouraging. Apparently, old-style printed records of that time period still existed at the Federated Trans-Stellar Conglomerate office.

"Yes, we have records that go back to that time period," an officious and abrasive Conglomerate representative had informed me. "What could you possibly want with those old things?" The man had a voice that grated on your nerves like two pieces of metal grinding together. "Well, alright, you can look through them, for all the good it will do you. But, you'll have to come here to do it. We can't have Conglomerate records leaving the complex."

The trip to the Sol system took about a month and a half to make, mostly because of scheduled stops in other star systems, but I finally set foot on Earth at the New Columbia interstellar spaceport. From there, I took a ground shuttle into the city and checked in to my hotel room.

There were a couple of messages waiting for me on the vid phone when I arrived. One was from Dav and Key begging me to come back: they'd been saddled with a new team leader who was driving them crazy with his attempts at humor and his practical jokes. I chuckled to myself. They also wanted to know how things were going and if I'd made any progress. I couldn't help smiling as I recalled all the good times we'd had together.

The other message was from the Conglomerate worm. He'd forgotten to inform me that there was an hourly fee for using their archive room — an astronomical sum — and that I would be required to pay up front for the time with no refunds for any time not used.

I cursed softly. Given the opportunity, I felt sure I'd punch that creep in one of his several noses. Weary from the journey, I slipped out of my jumpsuit and crawled into bed. Time enough tomorrow to deal with that problem, I reasoned.

Mother had been right. If this was an example of how things had become on Earth, I could now understand their haste in leaving. As I slowly drifted off to sleep, I swore to spend as little time as possible in that archive room.

The next morning, I caught a ground shuttle into the city and made my way over to the Conglomerate office. There, I was greeted by an equally officious receptionist who demanded payment of the user fee before she would escort me to the archive room. Begrudgingly, I paid for four hours of time (it _**was**_ an astronomical amount), then she sniffed and said, "Follow me."

She led the way down several flights of stairs to a dimly lit corridor then finally to a locked door at its end. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open.

"Good luck finding anything in there!" she said, grinning derisively, then turned and left.

I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as I fought to control my anger.

"The quicker I finish, the sooner I can leave this woe-begotten mudball," I grumbled, entering the archives.

The place was in a terrible state of disrepair, and it took me nearly two and a half hours just to find the old records from Bolston Aerospace. Problem was, there were hundreds of records to go through, and a manual search of them was tedious and time-consuming. By the time my four hours had elapsed, I had only gone through about a quarter of the available records with still no pattern match for the partial identification marking I had lifted from that emergency beacon rocket.

"Your time's up," the receptionist spoke from the doorway, hands on hips. "You have to leave. Now!"

"I need more time," I told her, closing the record book I was presently scanning. "What if I paid for a few more …"

"Not today," she interrupted, perturbed that I was delaying her. "The office is closing early. You'll have to come back Monday."

"But that's three days from now!"

"You'll have to come back then. The office is closing. Let's go."

Grumbling to myself, I blindly gathered up my notes, stuffed them into my carry case, then I followed her out.

Back at my hotel room, I flung my case across the entire room where it thudded heavily onto the bed.

"Aaarrgghhhh!" I growled, clenching and unclenching my fists as I paced back and forth. "If I didn't need those records so badly, I'd … I'd …"

Seeking something… anything… to take my frustrations out on, I turned to my carry case, swatting it viciously off the bed so I could flop down in its place.

I must've really been angry. The force of my blow sent the case sailing across the room, thudding loudly into the wall where it spilled its contents all over the floor.

"Fardles!" I muttered, rolling off the bed to clean up the mess.

As I was gathering up my notes, I came across a scrap of paper that I didn't recognize.

"What's this?" I wondered, holding up what looked like a page from one of those old records. "It must have come out when I was leafing through one of those old binders!"

I could certainly understand how it could have accidentally gotten mixed up with my own notes. That room was so poorly lit, I'd had to strain my eyes just to see. A loose page could easily have gone unnoticed in that dim light.

As I examined the errant page, my eyes fell across the identification numbers on the list, and my heart skipped a beat as it stopped on one of them. Frantically, I dug through the rest of my notes, grabbing the sheet that I'd written the partial identification markings down on. I nearly dropped the two scraps of paper when I realized…

"It matches! Down to the last visible character, it matches!"

There'd been gaps in the markings I'd been able to get off the rocket, but everything else matched perfectly with this one entry. Glancing over to the 'Assigned To' column, it read 'Pern Colonization Expedition'.

"Pern? Never heard of that Earth colony before," I mused, scratching my head.

A thorough review of the computer's historical files was no help. Nothing turned up, not even a footnote in some other report.

"If there was a colonization expedition sent from Earth, there should have been a charter drawn up between the colonists and the Council of the Federated Sentient Planets."

That much, at least, hadn't changed in the last three millennia. Any planetary colonization required an extensive in-depth survey of the proposed planet of settlement plus express approval from the Council. I'd had to participate in enough of those surveys to know. Nearly every other Earth colony was mentioned in the historical files. Why, then, was the Pern expedition missing?

"What could have happened to them?" I wondered aloud, staring again at the inadvertently removed record page. "Why is there no mention of them in the history files? And where in the stars is Pern?"

Fortunately, there was a way for me to follow up on that puzzling conundrum.

"Well, hi, John!" Rita greeted as I entered the main office of the Headquarters of the Federated Sentient Planets the very next day. "Come to file your planetary survey in person this time?"

Rita had been my FSP contact for all the pre-colonization survey reports I'd had to file, all of them via FTL comm-links. She had a gentle smile and a pleasing personality, at odds with the syndicated technocrats that ran the FSP, and I always enjoyed talking with her whenever I had the chance.

"Not today, Rita," I replied, smiling back as I shook my head. "I'm surprised you haven't heard."

"Heard what?"

"That I resigned my commission from the Star Service almost eight months ago. I wonder why Dav or Key haven't told you?"

"I haven't heard from them since the last time you sent in your report," Rita said, shaking her head. Then, a look of pity on her face, she added, "You really did quit, didn't you? Why? You were one of the best!"

"Personal reasons," I told her. "It was causing friction among the other first-contactors. I was given an ultimatum. So, I left."

"That's too bad," Rita sighed, smiling in sympathy. "Well, what can I do for you, John?"

"I need to see if I can locate a colonization charter for an old Earth expedition," I explained. "Think I could use the records room?"

"Third door on the right," she replied, pointing down the hall with her thumb. "Anybody gives you grief, tell them to speak with me."

"You're a gem, Rita!" I told her as I headed down the indicated hall. "Thanks!"

"Anytime, John!"

Unlike the Conglomerate records room, this one was well lit. And, unlike that misbegotten place, I hadn't been made to pay an exorbitant fee to use it.

"Record files for that time period unavailable," the computer responded to my query. "Please consult printed archive records for requested information."

"Well, at least it didn't tell me there were no records at all," I chuckled.

Consulting the computer for the location of said records, I quickly found the binder covering that time period and began leafing through the pages.

"Let's see," I muttered to myself, "Gulon Outpost, Jenessa, New Melbourne, Pate's World, … Ahh, here we are! Pern Charter."

I quickly lost track of time as I became engrossed in reviewing the contents of the Pern Charter.

"Hmm, seems the planet's name was taken from the survey team's original descriptor acronym," I noted, "P.E.R.N. **C** "

Descriptor acronyms, survey team shorthand designed to save time and allow easier classification of potential colony worlds. A peculiar language that, coincidentally, all first-contact teams were supposed to be well versed in.

P.E. – Parallels Earth, one of a number of descriptors used to identify those worlds that fell within the general classification parameters of a Class-M planet. That meant a breathable atmosphere, good balance of water and land masses, polar ice caps, mountains and plains areas, and predictable climatology.

"A good starting point for any Earth colony," I noted.

The second half of the descriptor read 'R.N.' – Resources Negligible. I snorted derisively. To the syndicate-ridden technocrats of the FSP, it translated to, "If we can't turn a profit from exploiting them, then why bother?"

Simply put, natural resources were available planetside but in limited quantities, hard to extract, and of little or no intrinsic export value, though still quite useful to the planet's potential inhabitants. The planet was also located well off the established trading routes and about as far from the center of the Federated Sentient Planets as you could go in the known galaxy.

"Another selling point," I chuckled, grinning sardonically, "if you didn't want the FSP hovering around."

The superscript C denoted the planet's suitability for colonization, but even a layman knew that only certain colony types would stand a chance of succeeding there.

"Pastoral, most likely," I reasoned, opening the charter to the section covering the colony's description. "Wonder what they had in mind?"

I whistled in astonishment when I read further on. Over 6000 people had signed the charter giving them rights to certain numbers of stake acres. Their intent, as I'd suspected, had been to establish an agriculturally-based society on their new home world, just like those early frontier pioneers from ancient Earth.

"Well, the skills demographics were certainly well balanced for such an endeavor," I noted with satisfaction.

The attached excerpt of the Exploration and Evaluation Corps survey report, a cursory examination of the planet due to lack of mission staff, would nevertheless have proven enticing even if it was nearly 200 years old at the time the charter was drawn up. The facts I found the most astonishing were the names of three of the members of that expedition.

"Hey, John, how about a break?" Rita called out an indeterminate time later as she poked her head in to check on me. "You've been in there a long time!" No response. "John?"

Still no answer. Pushing the door open, she entered. Rita found me sitting at one of the tables, the charter log open in front of me. My head was hanging forward and my shoulders heaved gently up and down.

"John, are you alright?" she asked, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

When I turned to face her, she could see tears running down my face, their glistening tracks evident on my cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" she inquired, sitting in a chair beside me. "What did you find in those old records?"

"History," I answered between sniffles, gently wiping the tears from my face, "a lost fragment of ancient Earth history, Rita. Here, look."

I turned the record log to her.

"Pern Colonization Charter," Rita read aloud. "Pern? Never heard of it."

"No one has in over two and a half millennia, Rita. You won't find it anywhere in the computer history records. Not even a footnote! And there's more! Read the name of the expedition commander."

"Paul Benden," Rita dutifully recited the entry. Then, turning to me, "Admiral Paul Benden? The one who defeated the Nathis in the battle of Cygnus?"

"The very same," I replied. "His brilliant strategies helped the Purple Sector Fleet turn the tide of war against the Nathis bringing an end to that terrible conflict. Keep reading."

"Hey! I recognize this one!" Rita exclaimed, pointing to another entry on the page. "Emily Boll! She was the governor of First Centauri during those merciless Nathi attacks!"

"That's right, Rita. Her efforts in the defense of First Centauri were nearly as legendary as Admiral Benden's victory."

"I remember! My family comes from First Centauri. We learned all about her in school there. Why, there's even a city named after her! And my mother claims our family are her direct descendants!"

"There's one other name on that list that's unusual, too," I said. "Ever hear of Kitti Ping Yung?"

Rita shook her head.

"She was renowned throughout the star systems as the most eminent biogeneticist in the Federated Sentient Planets – the only human to have ever been trained by the Eridanis."

"If people that important were part of the expedition, why hasn't anyone heard about it?" Rita asked, confused. "It doesn't make any sense! How could such honored and noteworthy people have simply vanished from history?"

"Simple. The Federated Sentient Planets," I replied, a sickening feeling in my stomach. "They didn't vanish. They were deliberately ignored."

"Ignored?"

"Yes. Knowing the state of corruption in the FSP of that era …"

Rita cursed. "That much hasn't changed, even after nearly three thousand years!"

"I'm convinced that those three plus the thousands of others who made up that expedition would have done anything to escape the blandishments of the FSP technocrats."

Rita nodded solemnly in agreement.

"So, the FSP simply practiced selective amnesia, erasing any record of the Pern Expedition to avoid any public embarrassment over the apparent disaffection of three such noteworthy people," I muttered, totally disgusted. "They kept only the relevant historical facts to make themselves look good."

"What will you do now, John?"

"I'm going to follow their trail, Rita, wherever it leads. I'm going to find this lost colony from Earth, to learn if it exists, and if their descendants have survived."

"Well, before you go anywhere, you better have something to eat," Rita chided me, producing a tray of food which she set on the table next to us. "You've been at it nonstop for over twelve hours!"

I laughed out loud. I'd been so intent on studying that ancient record, I'd completely lost track of the time. My stomach rumbled in protest even as I picked up the first sandwich.

The food was excellent, and I was extremely grateful to Rita for her help and thoughtfulness. Either sensing the turmoil of my inner thoughts or merely out of polite respect, Rita said nothing, and we ate in companionable silence.

 _By the spirits of my ancestors, what those technocrats had done is unforgivable; an unspeakable crime!_ I silently cursed. _I will find Pern. Nothing will stop me. This I swear!_

Afterwards, Rita and I cleaned up the remains of our private little dinner together, then she escorted me out of the building.

"I wish you luck in your search, John," Rita told me. "At least, this way, one person will know the truth."

"Why don't you come with me, Rita?" I asked, surprising her.

"Me?!" she stammered.

"Yes! You don't belong here. You're better than they are! You belong with people like your honored ancestor, Emily Boll, away from the corruption of the syndicate-ridden technocracy of the FSP. You belong on Pern!"

"If it exists, John," she said, smiling ruefully. "No, I've grown too dependent on technology. I'm afraid I wouldn't survive more than a day or two."

"You could learn," I replied, smiling encouragingly.

"Thanks, John, but I don't share your sense of adventure. You, though … you have a chance. You were a good first-contactor, trained to survive in nearly any environment and situation. And you have the desire, the motivation … the hunger … to uncover the truth. I can see it in your eyes. You won't stop until you learn the fate of those colonists, good or bad."

"And don't you go worrying about me," she added with a smile. "I won't be staying on here much longer. My son has a nice little place on Procyon IV, and he's asked me to come live with him. Just far enough off the beaten path to be relatively free of the FSP's corruption, but still technologically advanced enough to suit me."

"I hope it turns out to be everything you want, Rita."

"I'm sure it will, John. And, I sincerely hope that you find what it is you're looking for, too. Oh, here! You might want this."

She handed me a large sealed envelope.

"What is it?" I asked, turning it over in my hands.

"A copy of the Pern Charter. Thought you might like to take it along with you."

"Thanks, Rita," I said, clutching the precious package to my chest, "for everything."

"Gotta go, John. Got some friends coming over for dinner. You take care, hear?"

"I will," I replied, smiling. "And, thanks again!"

"Anytime!" Rita winked. "See ya!"

"She certainly takes after her long-dead ancestor, Governor Boll," I said to myself as I watched Rita go, marveling at the inner strength of that amazing woman.

"Who'd've thought that old rocket would lead me to a lost colony from Earth?" I pondered, shaking my head in disbelief as I stared at the envelope in my hands.

"Well, it won't stay lost for much longer!" I shouted, shaking the envelope defiantly at the star-filled sky. "Pern, here I come!"


	3. Chapter 3 - Mayday! Mayday!

Chapter 3

 _ **Mayday! Mayday!**_

THEY STARTED RIGHT AFTER MY DISCOVERY OF THE PERN CHARTER: strange, otherworldly dreams intruding upon my sleep. At first, there were just glimpses of a land as if seen while walking its surface; a place unknown yet somehow familiar. Then came the soaring images as if I was a bird in flight over this strange land. Mysterious and alluring, each time I would wake from the dream disappointed to find that's all it had been.

I wasted no time booking passage on the first available FTL transport back to Altair VI. Now, as I stood at the porthole of my stateroom watching as the ship departed the Sol system, I contemplated my future.

From the moment I'd uncovered the Pern Colony Charter, the dreams had begun – vivid and compelling – and I found it exceedingly difficult to dismiss them as mere coincidence.

Pern _was_ calling to me. I had to go. I also knew with a terrifying certainty that once I left to find it, I wouldn't be coming back … ever!

One night on the journey back, the dreams changed. I was alone in that mysterious land strolling across its surface. The sun was shining, the air cool and refreshing. All seemed at peace … until a strange pervasive quiet settled over the land even as an ominous curtain of gray loomed on the horizon. The sight of it filled me with a dread I could not name. I ran, but the curtain was faster. Only it wasn't gray. It was silver. And not a curtain but a shower of individual filaments. Soon, the sky overhead turned dark, and something fell on me, writhing and hissing!

PAIN! SEARING, ALL-CONSUMING! So intense and vivid, it jerked me awake, the sound of my scream resounding off the walls.

Trembling violently, drenched head to toe in sweat, I looked about, desperately trying to reassure myself.

"Thank the stars," I whispered, my heart pounding frantically beneath my ribs, "it was only a dream."

And for that, I was grateful. Whatever had fallen on me in the dream had burned with its touch, voraciously consuming my body even as I struggled to escape, the pain indelibly etched in my memory. If it was about Pern, what could it mean?

Sleep eluded me the rest of the night. As I joined the other passengers for breakfast the following morning, one of them exclaimed, "Jays, man! What happened to you? You look awful! Feeling okay?"

"Had trouble sleeping," I mumbled, arm propped up on the table to support my head.

"Trouble?!" another passenger peevishly complained. "I have the cabin next to you, and that scream of yours in the middle of the night woke me out of a sound sleep!"

"Bad dream?" the woman across from me asked.

The merest mention of that incident sent violent shudders racing through my body. No words could describe what I'd experienced. I could only nod in response.

"Well, maybe things will be better tonight."

They weren't. For seven nights, the nightmare returned. Each time, I would be running for my life from that silver curtain of death only to be caught up in it, and I would awaken screaming from the imagined pain; sweating profusely and shaking like a leaf!

About a week out from Altair VI, the dreams changed yet again. As before, I was wandering the plains of that strange world, running, trying to escape my death in that silver curtain. Just as I felt I'd be caught once more, something grabbed me from behind, bearing me swiftly aloft.

Two massive hands encircled my waist and upper legs holding me firmly but gently. I could make out only the arms and part of a massive body. The skin gleamed a brilliant golden color, it was remarkably soft to the touch, and just beyond the bulk of the body … graceful gossamer wings beat up and down propelling us along.

I let out a shout of joy and triumph as we sped swiftly along through the crisp, clear air; the deadly curtain of silver falling rapidly behind. Only then did I turn to see where we were going and met the gaze of a pair of very large rainbow-colored eyes. They whirled slowly, the colors shifting and blending in an almost hypnotic fashion. I stared at them, entranced, unable to look away. The lids of one eye closed briefly as if winking at me, then abruptly all sight and sensation vanished, leaving in its place only utter darkness and a bone-chilling cold.

Gasping for breath, I sat bolt upright in bed, the sudden sensory deprivation stunning me from my sleep. As I struggled to calm my fluttering heart and ragged breathing, I tried to recall if I'd cried out. As near as I could remember, I hadn't.

"At least the other passengers will be able to sleep tonight!" I chuckled to myself.

The FTL transport finally made orbit at Altair VI where I transferred to a LEO shuttle for the descent to the planet's surface. The dreams had continued, of course: the run for my life and the rescue ending with the utter blackness and bone-chilling cold.

"It must have something to do with Pern," I sighed as the shuttle made its approach to the spaceport, "but, spirits of my ancestors, what does it all mean?"

A few weeks later, Star Service headquarters received a very unexpected visitor.

"Pardon the interruption, sir, …"

"What is it, Parsons?" the team leader inquired of the admin staffer.

"Some guy's here visiting, says he's a friend of theirs," and he nodded to the other team members at the table.

"You expecting any visitors, Dav? Key?"

"No, sir," they simultaneously answered.

"Where is he?"

"By the door," the admin replied, thumbing in that direction.

" _ **JOHN!**_ "

Dav and Key flew from the table, chairs clattering noisily to the floor in their excess to reach me.

"By the Seven Pillars, Skipper, where've you been?" Dav loudly queried, my ribs creaking ominously under the crush of his friendly hug.

"It is good to see you again, J'hon," Key added, grasping my shoulder in a welcoming grip. "We have missed you deeply."

"It's good to see both of you," I told them, smiling back. "You've no idea how much I've missed you."

"So, what've you been up to, Skipper?" Dav eagerly inquired. "Any luck with that quest of yours?"

"As a matter of fact, I …"

"You!" Jolara's strident voice cut through our reunion. She bounded over, a malevolent look on her face. "What by all the hells are you doing back here? Get out!"

She hadn't changed, even after all this time. As much out of pity as of disgust, I shook my head briefly … then rammed my fist into her smug face. The blow lifted her off her feet, depositing her with a satisfying thud on her prim pompous backside.

"Shut up, Jolara," I told her, emphasizing my terse order with a cutting motion of my hand.

She tried to rise, but Temerk's firm hand kept her seated. From the look on his face and in his eyes, he'd wanted to do the same thing but felt constrained not to because of his strength. I nodded my understanding and my thanks.

"Actually, I just came by to tell you all farewell," I said. "I'll be leaving in the morning, and I probably won't be seeing you again. I just wanted to say thanks for all the support you gave me."

"You found something, Ch'har, didn't you?" Key inquired, keen interest sparkling in his eyes. "Something important!"

"Indeed, I did, my friend," I replied, grinning broadly. "A lost fragment of ancient Earth history. I'll be leaving in the morning in the Quester to track it down."

"The Quester?" solicited Temerk, his look puzzled.

"My ship," I said, beaming with pride, "a one-man scout vessel refitted with warp nacelles. It's also trans-atmospheric capable which I'll need when I reach my final destination."

"Where will you be going, John?" Davar inquired.

"On a very long journey, my friend," I answered him, smiling, "in search of the truth and to find my destiny." I eyed the man who'd been sitting with Dav and Key. "This him?"

"I am Tomall, their team leader," the stranger replied. "So you're the one Dav and Key are always talking about. I've heard some fascinating stories from them. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

As he held his hand out to me, I caught Key's worried look over Tomall's shoulder, but I merely smiled as I reached out to take the offered hand. The moment we touched, Tomall began jerking and writhing uncontrollably, his eyes bugging out, his jaw working as he tried to express his thunderstruck surprise. When I finally let go of his hand, he staggered back into Temerk's grasp, shook his head and blinked his eyes a couple of times to clear his vision before staring incredulously at the palm of his hand.

"Your reputation precedes you, Tomall," I said as I peeled a thin, flesh-colored glove off my hand and tossed it to him. "Found that in a quiet little specialty shop on Earth. Quite amazing design, actually. The thin inner layer is a non-conducting material that protects the wearer. The outer layer is a sophisticated meshwork of conducting pathways and power amplifiers. Any power surge transmitted to the glove is amplified three-fold and returned to the sender."

Dav covered a sudden bark of laughter with a fit of coughing, but I heard other snickers around the room and knew Dav and Key hadn't been the only victims of this man's practical jokes.

"I'd better be going, guys," I said, turning to Dav and Key.

"We'll walk you out, J'hon," Keymon replied on my left, Davar falling in stride on my right, the three of us marching smartly out the door.

As I arrived at the spaceport the following morning, Key and Dav were there waiting. I was extremely warmed by the gesture.

"You didn't think we'd let you get away without saying goodbye, now, did you, Skipper?" Davar asked.

"I'm glad you came down, Dav," I laughed heartily, crushing him in a bear hug till his ribs creaked before setting him back on his feet. "I'm going to miss you, you big lug!" Clasping Keymon's arm with my own, I added, "I'm going to miss you both!"

"We could go along with you, J'hon," Key remarked, eyeing my ship with just a hint of envy.

"And I would not have better company for my journey," I said, thumping them both companionably on the back. "But, alas, the Quester is only a one-man scout. I'm afraid the two of you will have to be with me in spirit."

"Then let us share one last drink together," Key replied, producing a bottle of Zondinerite brandy and three glasses, "before we part a final time."

We each took a glass which Key then filled with the brandy.

"Here's to all the good times and all the close calls we had, Skipper," Davar was first to toast. "We three were quite a team!"

"And here's to the courage to follow one's destiny," Key added, raising his glass, as he nodded to me, "and the perseverance to see it through."

"Here's to the best of friends," I said, raising my glass to each of them, "who stood by me through the best and worst of times. Whose memories will comfort and warm me through all the lonely days ahead. Good friends who will be fondly remembered for the rest of my life!"

"To the quest!" Keymon saluted, raising his glass.

"The quest!" "The quest!" Dav and I responded together, and as one, we three downed the brandy.

"Good luck, Skipper," Dav told me, the hint of a tear in his eyes as he clasped his arm to mine. "I sincerely hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thanks, Dav," I smiled, grasping his arm tightly, "for everything."

A tear ran unbidden down my cheek as I turned to my Kendite friend. "Key, …"

"Falun nol, zu Ch'har," he told me in his native tongue, his forepaws clasped firmly on my shoulders, "dostalanu nu azoo pokar. Kampazu matar nu la!" Weep not, my brother. Knowledge you have found. Destiny awaits you now!

"Then, I'd best be going," I laughed, thumbing the entry hatch open, "before I start blubbering all over the two of you."

"Take care of yourself, Skipper," said Davar as I stepped through the hatch. "Don't do anything I wouldn't!"

"Guess that means no more practice emergency approaches, huh, Dav?" I replied with a wink, and he smiled.

"Good hunting, Ch'har J'hon," Key added, fist clenched, forearm across his chest, the Kendite gesture for good fortune. "I am certain you will find the destiny you seek."

"May the Spirits' favor always smile upon you, my brother and friend," I responded, returning his gesture. "Farewell!"

With a hiss, the airlock door slid shut.

"Think he'll make it, Key?" asked Davar, the two of them watching from the observation lounge as my ship taxied out for takeoff.

As the Quester lifted from the runway and rocketed skyward, Keymon replied, "I am certain of it, my friend."

Time passed painfully slowly. According to my best calculations, and I'd run them all at least a dozen times, it would take close to three years to travel the 190 light-years (or over a million billion miles) to reach Pern. And in order to conserve my onboard consumables, I would have to spend almost 60% of that time in coldsleep. A dangerous necessity, but as I would be risking only my own life, an acceptable one.

Boredom and monotony were my only companions during my waking hours. The constant navigational checks, the occasional course corrections, the monitoring of onboard consumables, the ever-present sensor sweeps for obstacles and dangers in my flight path. What must those ancient colonists have gone through, I wondered, during their fifteen-year crossing of this interstellar void? There was one difference, I noted. They hadn't been alone during the crossing.

 _Maybe Keymon had been right_ , I thought. _Maybe I should have let them come with me._

No. No, this was my quest and mine alone, I concluded. My search for the truth about what happened to those two-millennia removed ancestors from Earth. My journey into the unknown in search of my ultimate destiny. So, I settled back and continued my checks and double-checks, keeping a watchful eye on everything.

The dreams continued to haunt my non-coldsleep nights. Ghostly visions of great beasts soaring majestically through the skies; sunlight glittering off hides of gold, bronze, brown, blue, and green. Most amazing of all, there were men and women astride these awesome beasts, seemingly as one with the creatures they rode.

Then, one night, in my dreams, just as my golden-winged rescuer was about to vanish into that cold and utter blackness, I steeled myself for the shock I knew was coming, determined to find out if I could survive in that nothingness.

With the wink of an eye, we left the sun-washed plains of that mysterious world and were transported to that utter black, impossibly cold nether region. The seconds seemed to take forever to tick by, slowed in their pace by the biting cold that penetrated clear to my bones. And just when I thought I would scream in frightened desperation, we burst once more into the sun-warmed skies over that mysterious world.

"We made it!" I exclaimed, stunned and overwhelmed to have come through okay.

 _Of course, we made it!_ my winged companion replied, somewhat annoyed. _How could you believe otherwise?_

Gasping, I turned with a jerk to stare thunderstruck into one of the idly whirling blue eyes that regarded me. Words! The creature was speaking to me, in words as plain as any ever spoken!

 _Why does that surprise you?_ the creature inquired, and I gasped again, for the words were not spoken aloud, but echoed instead within my mind!

In a swirl of dust kicked up by its immense wings, the creature backwinged to a soft landing on that mysterious world, gently set me on my feet, then ambled off a short distance away.

"Wait!" I called out, running after the creature as it took to the skies once more.

 _I must go_ , the creature sent to me as it spiraled ever higher into the sky. _The time is not yet right._

"I don't understand!"

 _One day, we'll be united. For now, farewell!_

"NO!"

In the blink of an eye, the creature vanished, and I was left standing, confused and bereft, on the plains of that strange world.

"I don't understand," I wept, sinking to my knees.

Suddenly, great shadows passed over me, and I cringed, unconsciously looking over my shoulder for the curtain of silver death I was sure would be there. Instead, I beheld a sky filled with great numbers of the flying beasts. Countless golds, bronzes, browns, blues, and greens, so numerous they nearly blotted out the sun.

A flight of … of … of dragons! With a shock as keen as pain, I leaped to my feet, awestruck and bewildered, for I knew without a doubt that that was what I beheld. A flight of dragons that somehow did battle with that silver curtain of death to save this mysterious world.

"So brave," I sighed, my heart lifting at the sight of those magnificent creatures and their mounted human companions.

"Come to us! Join with us, friend!" they called out as they winged past. "Unite with us!"

"I don't understand!" I cried out, a feeling of desperation sweeping over me. "Where do I go? How do I find you?"

 _You are very close now,_ a bronze dragon told me as he soared overhead. _When the time is right, you will know what to do._

"But, …"

 _It is time to come home,_ a gold added winging alongside the bronze. _Come home to us!_

Then, the entire flight vanished.

"Wait! Come back! Please!"

BLAM! The first impact jarred me awake.

"What the …" I mumbled, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

KABAMM! The second tossed me clear out of my bunk.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, arms flailing as I sailed through the air. Disoriented, my flight wasn't pretty, my landing even less so as I sprawled on the deck. "Ooof!"

Dazed and confused, my mind tried to grope with what was happening.

"What the blazes?!" I cursed, picking myself up.

WHAM! The third impact knocked out the arti-grav generators and the lights and pitched me up into the ceiling.

"Curse that Melvorian spawn of a used starship salesman!" I swore loudly, ricocheting off the ceiling panels.

I didn't need a ship's status panel in front of me to know the deflector shields had collapsed. But why hadn't the Quester's proximity detectors sounded an alarm? Seizing a nearby bulkhead, I propelled my now weightless form toward the only available source of light in the ship: the starlight filtering in through the forward viewport.

"Knew I should have given this thing the once over before taking her out," I muttered, seizing the back of the pilot's seat.

Truth was, I'd been so anxious to begin my search for the lost colony from Earth, I'd let my eagerness prevail over common sense, and now it seemed I was going to pay for that carelessness.

With a deft little flip, I cleared the seat back and planted myself squarely in the pilot's seat. Quickly strapping myself in, I began to assess the damage to my ship. The impacts, though not as jarring or severe as the first several, continued in a more rhythmic fashion.

"Meteor shower," I noted, "though not one forecast for this sector. Well, let's see if the emergency power generator will activate. I've got to clear this shower before she takes any more damage."

Too dark to see, I felt around until I found the safety cover over the emergency power switch, flipped it up, then jammed my thumb down on the activating button. I heaved a sigh of relief as the backup generator kicked in. Emergency lights and key instruments flickered then steadied. "Now, if the thrusters aren't too badly damaged …"

Firing a sustained burst from the vertical vector thrusters, I heaved a sigh of relief as I felt the acceleration pressure in my seat. Just as quickly, I nearly choked on my heart as it leaped up into my throat. Something dark and massive loomed directly ahead, blotting out the starfield.

"A planetoid!"

My heart skipped several beats as my eyes took in its proportions. The size of a small moon, it was easily many, many times larger than the Quester, and at the rate it obstructed the starfield, it was closing fast.

"Only one chance," I prayed, my hands flying over the control console.

In a blur of motion, I keyed in the sequence for the maneuvering thrusters then yanked back on the control stick. Nothing. Not even a little twitch. I swallowed hard, cold sweat running down my back, a nervous panic threatening to overtake me even as the rapidly approaching planetoid obscured more and more of the starfield.

"Be a heck of a note to die out here without ever reaching Pern," I snorted in disgust.

WHRAMMMM! Another meteor strike, hard enough to rattle my teeth! My ship began to tumble out of control, and nothing I did seemed to have any effect. Time was fast running out, Death looming ever nearer.

"Come on, curse you!" I roared, crashing my fist down on the console.

Squawking in protest at being so rudely awakened, status lights for the maneuvering thrusters suddenly winked on green. Giving the control stick a quick twist, I heaved a momentary sigh of relief as I felt the ship respond. Then, with a speed that surprised even me, I managed to stop the Quester's tumbling and get her stabilized, the planetoid's starlit crater-pocked surface now visible through the port side viewport. The forward viewport, however, was clear.

"Now!"

Pounding my fist down on the proper activator, I cold-fired the impulse engines at FULL power, veering away at a right angle to the onrushing interstellar juggernaut. The sudden G-force onset as the engines kicked in slammed me back in my seat, robbing me of breath. As my consciousness surrendered to the brutal crush of acceleration, I wondered, "Would it be enough?"

For an eternity, I floated in that black oblivion of unconsciousness. Then, something tickled my nose, and I swatted angrily at it, nearly breaking my fingers on a drifting piece of torn bulkhead.

"Blast it!" I cursed, sucking on my bleeding fingers as I gazed out the forward viewport at the velvet curtain of stars. It was so beautiful out there, and …

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I gasped, nearly swallowing my fingers as I realized with a start, "I'm still alive!"

My heart fluttered in my chest, and I thought I was going to pass out. I swallowed hard, shaking my head, stunned by the sheer improbability of it all. That planetoid had been close enough that I could have reached out and touched the thing. Somehow, I had escaped, but if luck was a measurable quantity, I'd used up a sizeable dollop of it, and I was sure there wasn't much more left to my credit.

Still, I was alive, and for that, I was thankful. The meteor shower and the ensuing tumbling had left me totally disoriented. My wrist chronometer indicated that I'd been unconscious for nearly four hours. I needed to figure out where I was and fast.

The ship's status panel wasn't encouraging. According to it, nearly 80% of the ship's systems were either damaged or destroyed. The navigational computer was inoperative, emphasized by a sputtering overhead panel that suddenly shorted out, filling the cockpit with smoke. Circulating fans quickly dispersed the acrid fumes, but that wasn't the end of my problems. The ship's sensor array was severely damaged, limiting my probe capabilities to a range of less than 100,000 kilometers. The warp pods were gone. Damaged in the meteor storm, they'd most likely sheared away from the Quester during that 30-g escape. That left only the impulse engines, and their fuel supply was nearly 70% depleted. Life support was operating on minimal, bordering on emergency levels, and there was a small leak in the aft outer bulkhead where the ship's precious atmosphere was slowly venting overboard. Stress indicators located throughout the ship were all flashing, indicating the strain they'd been put under. Most flashed yellow caution but some flashed red warning of possible structural damage or failure. Key among these were the trans-atmospheric flight controls, crucial components if I was going to attempt a landing somewhere. But where?

There was a blue-white star in this sector just behind and below me as I gazed out the starboard viewport. Possibly even fourth-magnitude. But without the navigational computers, I had no way of knowing if it was the one I was looking for.

"Let's hope there's at least one habitable planet there," I muttered, using the maneuvering thrusters to bring the star around to the forward viewport.

Fate, for a time, was kind. Somehow I'd managed to line up on this star system's ecliptic plane. And while I had to dance my way through an asteroid belt on my journey sunward, I came out of it in one piece.

Near the end of my ship's fuel supply, my hope diminishing as fast as the fuel gauge, I came within sight of a planetary body, faintly discernable by the crescent shape of its sunlit surface.

"Pern?" I wondered aloud, adjusting the Quester's course to a crude intercept angle. "Well, Pern or not, I can't stay here."

I was forced to make several course corrections on my approach to the planet, wasting valuable fuel in the process because of the inherent inaccuracies of manual control, but I did manage to bring the Quester within sensor range of the planet.

"Hmm, appears to be Class-M," I remarked to no one in particular, taking note of the swirling cloud patterns and the cap of polar ice, "with at least one natural satellite." The characteristic crescent of a small moon was just coming into view from behind the planet's horizon.

"Planetary scan indicates a breathable atmosphere," I sighed with relief as I bent over the sensor console, "oxygen content slightly above Earth normal. Gravity 0.9 that of Earth. Two discernable land masses."

The larger southern landmass was heavily overgrown with jungle-like vegetation, limiting the choices of landing sites. It also appeared to be in the midst of its winter season as temperature scans showed blustery conditions existing there.

The smaller northern continent was less densely foliated. It was also enjoying a more temperate season, so I decided to look for a landing site there.

The central portion of the continent seemed to have the smoothest terrain as well as a major river flowing through its central portion, a river delta visible where it emptied into the sea. There were two other possible landing sites: one a valley toward the eastern side of the continent between a barrier mountain range to the north and hilly terrain to the south, the other gently rolling terrain on a peninsula of land that stuck out from the continent into its western sea, the cone of a volcano barely discernable toward its western end.

"Should be fairly smooth terrain to land on at any one of those sites," I mused, reviewing the sensor report, though I was favoring the central one. "And flowing rivers should also provide sources of food, if they're edible. Let's see …"

Throwing a few switches, I changed the scanning mode of my sensors.

"Plenty of flora around," I noted, going over the scan results, "but life signs indeterminate." As I tried to fine-tune the sensors, I heard a crackling sound almost like paper being scrunched up, a snap and a pop, then a cloud of smoke erupted from around the edges of the sensor panel and the scanner went dead.

"Swell," I sighed, fanning the smoke from my face. "Gonna make this difficult for me, eh?"

At the moment, though, food was the least of my worries. The planet was fast approaching, and I needed to decelerate into orbit before a landing could be attempted. The fuel gauge wasn't encouraging. It was going to take everything I had left plus some from the maneuvering thrusters to make orbit, and, at best, it would be a shaky one. After that, the last of my maneuvering thrusters would be used up decelerating for reentry. Assuming I survived that, the only thing left would be the flight controls once I'd reached an altitude where they would become effective. And that was assuming they didn't tear off during reentry, I reminded myself, remembering the flashing stress indicators.

"Wish you were here, Dav," I chuckled, keying in the necessary sequences. "This is gonna make that practice approach seem tame by comparison!"

The orbit I achieved was shaky, a slightly squashed offset ellipse with the perigee just skimming the atmospheric envelope. It complicated my reentry somewhat since I would have to time my deorbit burn to place my entry interface at the perigee.

Just then, a piercing whistle filled the air, and the cockpit lights changed to red signifying that life support had just switched over to emergency. That left me with about three hours of usable oxygen in the cabin. I would need at least an hour of that just for reentry and landing, and my current orbital position put me at least an hour away from perigee.

"No choice," I muttered, checking my calculations. "Have to deorbit this pass or never!"

At the appropriate coordinates, I fired the maneuvering thrusters to begin my descent. My approach to the planet had placed me in an east-to-west orbital track, and the necessity to deorbit during this pass placed my reentry window over a scattered string of islands in the planet's great eastern sea. There was no chance to reach my primary landing site in the mid-continental delta region; the angle of descent necessary would be too steep and I would burn up on reentry. That also placed the secondary site, the eastern valley region, hopelessly out of reach. Which left only my tertiary landing site on the western coast.

"Just hope I've got enough energy to clear that range of mountains," I muttered to myself.

With the barest of fuel remaining, I positioned the Quester for reentry just as entry interface was reached. Soon, a plume of ionized gas enveloped the ship, and I could just begin to feel the deceleration forces through the seat of my pants.

The initial portion of reentry was smooth enough, but the last of the maneuvering thruster fuel was quickly used up as I struggled to maintain my reentry attitude. As the atmosphere became denser and the aerodynamic control surfaces more effective, the Quester began to buck and shake considerably accompanied by almost steady red warnings from the ship's stress indicators.

"Worse than I thought," I sighed ruefully as I fought to keep the ship steady. "She took a pretty bad beating in that meteor storm."

Still, I counted myself lucky. In spite of everything, I had survived reentry, and as I gazed out the viewports, I could make out the coastline of the central bay region, the river delta visible off in the distance. The large island in the eastern portion of that central bay now lay far behind me, the easternmost coast and mountain range of the western peninsula now fast approaching.

"Just one hurdle to clear." Looking out of the side viewports as I passed over the coast, I pondered, "Wonder what the planet's local inhabitants will think of my sonic boom?"

Some minor turbulence greeted me as I passed over the mountains, but they were soon behind me, and I heaved a sigh of relief. A sigh punctuated by the warning alarm from my control console.

"Hydraulic system low pressure warning," I muttered, scanning the console. "Must've damaged a line during that storm."

Hydraulics powered the flight controls, and at the rate the pressure was bleeding off, I was uncertain if I would have enough to retain control of the Quester for my landing attempt.

"Come on, baby, just six more minutes. That's all I need!"

Altitude was my friend, but I was rapidly losing that as the Quester flashed across an intervening bay. Damaged in the meteor storm, the flight controls were becoming sluggish and erratic as hydraulic pressure continued to bleed off.

"Come on, darling, just a little farther," I spoke, coaxing my ship along.

The ground was rapidly approaching as I coasted in over the peninsula where I'd chosen my landing site. Thermals rising off the sunlit ground buffeted me and my ship complicating my task as I scanned the terrain ahead for a suitable landing spot.

"A soft one, too, I hope."

There were some rock outcroppings directly ahead, but I managed to find a relatively clear path to my left and corrected my course to line up with it.

Thirty seconds from landing, I altered my 22-degree glide slope to a 1.5-degree landing flare and reached over to grasp the landing gear handle. As I did, I noted hydraulic pressure was now zero. The cold knot of fear in my stomach became a choking lump in my throat as the Quester no longer responded to the controls. Trying to soften my landing, I moved the gear lever to the extend position. As I did, there was a loud crack and the gear handle came away from the panel in my hand.

"Well, that's it," I sighed, disgusted and resigned, shaking my head as I tossed the broken gear lever behind me. "The last bit of my luck just ran out."

I chuckled bitterly to myself. No fuel for the engines, no hydraulics for the flight controls, and now, no landing gear to help cushion the impact.

"With everything else running out including my altitude, why not my luck?" I reasoned. As this strange world's landscape hurtled inexorably toward me, my last conscious thought as I gave the crash harness one final tug was, "Oh, man, this is gonna hurt!"


	4. Chapter 4 - Pern!

_Chapter 4_

Pern!

IMAGES — vague, otherworldly, hovered at the edge of my awareness. Emotions, too — a curious mix of fear, caution, nervousness, and concern. And colors — a dizzying blend of every shade imaginable. Adrift on that confusing sea, nothing was familiar.

"Where am I?" I cried.

Slowly, awareness returned, the sensation not unlike watching a morning fog lift with the rising sun. But rather than blue skies and gentle breezes, excruciating pain was there to greet me.

Pain?! But I'd have to be …

Startled by the impossible, I jerked upright in my seat. That proved to be a mistake for the sudden motion triggered an intense bout of dizziness and vertigo. Several times I thought I'd lose my lunch but somehow managed to keep it down.

Any movement was sheer torture, my entire body aflame with pain as I struggled to release the crash harness. By the time it finally fell away, I was trembling, breathing hard, and totally spent.

Still, I had reason to celebrate. I was alive! But for how long? I didn't need my first-contactor medical training to tell me I was a real mess.

 _Is this how it ends?_ I silently wondered, blinking sweat from eyes I was too exhausted to wipe.

Death's cold embrace would soon claim me if I didn't get help. But how? I had no idea where I was or if there was even any sentient life on this God-forsaken mudball. I didn't want to die, not like this. Tears sprang unbidden to my eyes as despair closed in, choking my heart in an icy fist.

"Stay away!"

I jumped. A voice? Here?!

"Leave me alone! Help!"

Spirits of my ancestors, a human voice! But how could that be?

I struggled out of the seat, my own concerns instantly swept aside by the urgency of that cry. Staggering to the hatch, I thumbed the release, leaning against the opening as the door hissed aside.

Nerve-jarring raucous screeching drew my attention. Off in the distance, against a rock outcropping… Blessed ancestors, a girl! A human girl! Her back to the rocks, stick in hand, she was struggling to fend off …

 _Spirits of my ancestors!_ I silently exclaimed. _What are those?_

Avians, ugly as the day was long, were diving at the girl, trying to rend her flesh with their razor-sharp talons and beaks. As I watched, she managed to bash one across the beak, sending it shrieking off in frustrated rage. She was a brave little warrior, but her attackers were far too numerous and would soon wear her down unless…

Quickly checking its stun setting, I drew my blaster, flipped off the safety, and fired at the thing nearest the girl. The beam struck squarely, a startled squawk escaping the beast's throat before it fell unconscious at the girl's feet.

Drawn by their brethren's cry, the other avians turned my way. But another half dozen fell just as quickly, their unconscious bodies thudding heavily to earth. Distressed by this sudden turn of events, the remaining uglies scattered, leaving the girl frozen against the rocks, frightened and uncertain as she stared at me.

Tremors racked my weakened body as I struggled to holster my blaster. Abruptly, the ground beneath my feet seemed to teeter and sway, the world spinning dizzily away as my legs collapsed beneath me.

"Help me…" I managed to cry out before spiraling down into darkness.

Fragments of memories then, jumbled together, confusing. Many hands lifting, carrying me to… where? Urgent voices, muffled, drifted to my ears, one voice above the others, ordering… what? I felt motion, but was too detached to care. A brief moment of utter blackness and numbing cold. Time passing, more voices, different ones, quieter but no less urgent. A smaller voice, familiar, asking, "Will he be alright?" A softness now beneath me, then warmth enclosing me. The voices recede as memory fades.

Earthy smells and happy voices roused me from my somnolence. Voices? My pulse quickened. Human voices! Could it be?

I felt warm all over and wondered at its source. Stirring, I opened my eyes and found myself in a quiet dark place. Could I have dreamt it all?

 _No,_ my body answered, pain bringing a soft moan to my lips as I shifted restlessly in an effort to ease the discomfort.

Someone was with me. I heard a soft movement and then a gentle glow spreading from a corner of the room.

"Are you comfortable?" the stranger asked. "Is there much pain?"

The stranger was bending over me, securing some sort of furry covering about my shoulders; someone whose hands were gentle, soothing, who smelled of clean herbs and faintly of something else I couldn't identify.

"Can you understand me?" the person inquired.

Slowly, I nodded, even that small effort causing discomfort.

"You are in pain," my companion remarked. "Here, drink this." A cup was pressed to my lips, and I sampled a bit of the liquid. "It will help ease the pain."

The voice was familiar somehow and reassuring, so I finished the drink.

"Rest now." I heard. "You'll be alright. You're safe."

Safe. My limbs and body soon dissolved into weightlessness, the pain seeming to float away, and my eyes inexorably closed.

When next I awoke, a few changes had been made in the room. Most noticeably, I was sitting, propped up by a mountain of pillows behind me. Sunlight slanted in through an open window, and a delicious bouquet of smells wafted in on the breeze. Gone were the sounds I'd heard earlier. Judging by the slant of the light, it was near midday or a little past. Then, quiet footsteps caught my attention, and I looked up just as the girl by the rocks entered.

"You're awake!" she greeted me, a relieved smile on her face.

"You're not hurt?" I managed weakly, smiling broadly as a wave of relief swept over me.

"Thanks to you," she said, smiling as she pulled a stool up next to the bed. "What's your name?"

"John."

"My name's Ryeena. I can't begin to thank you for saving my life. I thought I was wherry food for sure."

"Wherry? Is that what you call them?" She nodded. "Spirits of my ancestors, but they're ugly!"

"True …" Ryeena laughed, "but their meat does make good eating. And their hide, properly tanned, makes an excellent leather. We'll have plenty of both, thanks to you." A look of keen interest on her face, she asked, "John, what was that thing you used on the wherries?"

"A blaster," I explained, "a defensive weapon. I didn't want to hurt the creatures, so it was only set for stun. Ryeena, how'd you ever get trapped like that?"

"I saw your strange craft fall from the sky and went to see," she answered. "I was so amazed by it I didn't notice the wherries until it was too late. They startled Bolter _between_. I think he went to get help because an armed search party arrived a short time later."

"Bolter?"

Something brown whizzed past my ear, blurring about the room before coming to rest at last on the rail at the foot of my bed. For what seemed an eternity, I stared, mouth agape.

"No!" I whispered. "It can't be!"

Ryeena merely giggled, due perhaps to the ludicrous expression on my face.

"Bolter, behave yourself!" she chided her little brown friend. "John's our guest!"

"What is it?" I wondered, knowing the answer even as I voiced the question.

Images, bright and vivid, from my studies in ancient Earth history came back to me. Mythical creatures … born of magic and fantasy. Awe-inspiring. Dragons!

As if sensing my thoughts, the little brown creature raised up on his haunches, spreading his wings as he let out a very proud sounding "Chirrup!" He was magnificent to behold! Filmy gossamer wings, strong and powerful legs, swirling rainbow-colored eyes, everything I had imagined a dragon should be.

"Pfuu!" and Bolter completed the image by spouting a small tongue of flame.

"Just like in my dreams!" I whispered, recalling those captivating visions.

Mesmerized by this tiny creature, the overpowering smell left by his flame finally broke the enchantment.

"Phew!" I gasped, fanning my arms in an attempt to drive the offending stench away.

Startled by my sudden movement, the little brown took flight, darting about the room. I turned my head to follow him, but that proved a serious mistake as it triggered a crippling wave of dizziness, nausea, and pain. I collapsed against the pillows, trembling, my hands cradling my head.

"John!" Ryeena exclaimed, instantly at my side. "Now see what you've done, Bolter!"

"Ryeena, no!" I gasped, clutching her arm, my hand trembling with the effort, my voice barely a whisper.

"Go get help!" she ordered. "Hurry!"

I didn't see him go, my eyes closed against the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm me. Only the receding sound of his wings told me he'd gone.

"Take it easy, John," Ryeena said, her gentle hand on my forehead. "You'll be alright." Then, more sharply, "By Faranth's egg, if he …"

"No!" I assured her, my voice quavering a little. "No. It … it's alright. Should have known better. Rough landing … bad crash. Probable concussion. Possible internal injuries, too." Chuckling softly, I added, "I'm amazed to even be alive!"

And here I thought I'd used up all my luck!

Drawing a couple of deep breaths, the dizziness and nausea abated somewhat. Opening my eyes, I found Ryeena sitting on the edge of the bed, concern etched deeply in her face. "He was beautiful!"

"He was showing off!" Ryeena sharply replied. "Are you sure you're alright?"

I nodded.

"Ryeena …" I began, "your friend, Bolter … what is he?"

She seemed confused by my question.

"I mean, what kind of creature is he?" I asked.

"A fire lizard," she replied, matter-of-factly, and with just a hint of scorn, "my fire lizard." Looking at me, she added, "And he was showing off! I don't know what could have gotten into him!"

"Maybe he was just trying to make me feel better," I commented, my hand resting lightly on hers, "as you have so graciously been doing. Thank you."

Ryeena blushed perceptibly.

Just then, we heard the pounding of feet, the sounds of anxious voices approaching, and a man and woman burst into the room.

"Thank the Egg!" Ryeena sighed, obviously relieved. "I'm sorry, sir. Bolter's antics seem to have caused John to collapse."

"I see," the man replied as they changed places, his brow furrowing as he checked my pulse. "Then perhaps you'd better wait outside with him."

"No!" I croaked, jerking upright, instantly regretting it as the sudden movement triggered yet another wave of nausea and dizziness.

It was all I could do to keep from spewing all over the room. I closed my eyes, fighting to keep my stomach under control. The woman who had accompanied the stranger had her hands on my shoulders easing me back down.

"Take it easy, John," she said, her word and touch suffused with comfort. "Ryeena doesn't have to leave if you don't want her to."

"My fault, too," I moaned, warring with my churning stomach. "Knew I shouldn't have been moving around. But, I've never seen anything like him!" The memory briefly brought a smile to my face, then I looked up at the woman. "Who …"

"My name is Silvina," she replied, finishing my query. "Ryeena you've already met. And this is Master Oldive," who nodded in acknowledgment, "Master Healer of Pern."

A startled gasp exploded from my lips. My hands began to shake, mirroring the tremors that coursed through me as I stared, hardly daring to believe, into the faces of the people around me.

"Pern?" my tremulous question a barely audible whisper. My eyes darted from face to face begging for confirmation. I gulped loudly, clearing a lump in my throat. "Pern did you say?"

"Why, yes!" Master Oldive replied, distressed by the sudden fluctuations in my pulse. "John, what is it?"

I sagged back against the pillows.

"Pern!" I sobbed, tears coming unbidden to my eyes as relief overwhelmed me.

All the verbal abuse, ridicule, and frustration I'd suffered; all the sad and painful discoveries I had made along the way, all the trials and tribulations I'd endured on my long and arduous search … vindicated by a single word.

Pern — destination world of the colonists who had left Earth over two thousand years ago. Sadly forgotten and lost to both memory and history by the people of Earth, those ancient colonists had actually made it, and their descendants had survived!

Slowly, carefully, I shook my head, amazed by the chain of events that had led me to this place. It was ironic, and somehow fitting, that I had been forced to crash-land, however unknowingly, on the very planet I'd been searching for! I had finally found the lost colony from Earth. I had found Pern!

A grin slowly spread across my face, then a chuckle, followed by an almost hysterical fit of laughter.

"John!" Ryeena exclaimed, appearing at Silvina's side, clearly frightened and worried, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "Please take it easy! What's the matter?"

It took several moments for me to bring my mirth under control.

"Nothing! Nothing!" I wept, waving assurances as I dashed tears of laughter from my eyes.

"Nothing?!" Ryeena snapped, stomping her foot, anger replacing fear. "Then would you mind telling us what's going on?"

"Ryeena!" hissed Master Oldive, looking sternly at her.

"Master Oldive, please, it's alright," I beseeched him, grasping his hand. "Ryeena's been taking good care of me. She's just worried about me, that's all."

I held my other hand out to her, and slowly, Ryeena came over to take it.

"I'm sorry, Master Oldive … John," she whispered, her head bowed, her eyes averted. "It's just that …"

My finger on her lips ended any further discussion.

"No apologies, Ryeena," I assured her with a wink. "Except, perhaps, mine to all of you. I'm sorry if I frightened you, but this is all just so damned hysterically funny!"

"I'm not sure I follow," said Master Oldive, puzzled but clearly relieved. "Would you please explain?"

Before I could utter a sound, a vague, unnamed fear suddenly swept over me, blotting out all other thoughts. A short gasp escaping her lips, Ryeena's hand convulsed in mine as if she, too, felt that same fear.

"A moment, Master Oldive. Ryeena, what is it?"

"Bolter," she replied. "He's terribly frightened." Lowering her head as she recalled her angry outburst, "I did treat him pretty hard when you collapsed." Then, she cocked her head at me. "How did you …"

"I'm not sure," I admitted, only now realizing my sudden fear had something to do with him. "It's just that I had this feeling …"

"Chirp?"

The sound was so soft it nearly escaped us yet so plaintive we felt compelled to find its source.

"There," Silvina whispered, indicating the window, a smile on her face. "Ryeena, look."

On the sill, just barely sticking out past the shutter, we could see Bolter's tiny head, frightened eyes whirling bright yellow with just a hint of orange.

"Chirp?" a bit louder this time; worry, concern, and hope accompanying that sweet sound. With a start, I realized those feelings were coming from him!

"He's frightened," said Ryeena, concern in her voice. "He's afraid he did something to hurt you, John, and he really didn't mean to."

"Ryeena, would he come if I called to him?" I asked.

"He might," she mused, "but he's pretty scared."

"Humph!" Master Oldive snorted. "And with good reason. We heard you yelling at him all the way down in my study!"

Ryeena was crestfallen by Master Oldive's rebuke, but I squeezed her hand gently in reassurance and was rewarded with a tiny smile.

"Why don't you try, John?" suggested Silvina. "If you call him, he might be less afraid to come in."

"I think we both better call him," I replied, looking to Ryeena, "don't you?"

"Yes." Turning to the window, "Bolter, I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. I was just scared for John, that's all. Please come back in," and she gestured for her little friend to join us at the bed.

Bolter inched out a little bit, looking from Ryeena to me, his feverishly whirling eyes slowing somewhat and shading from yellow to orange.

"Won't you please come back in, little dragon?" I spoke, putting as much warmth into my words as I could. "No real harm's been done, and I would like us to be friends." I gestured to the end of the bed. "Please?"

"Chirp?" hopeful, as if to ask, "You're sure?"

Inching out a bit more and seeing no one moving to hurt him, Bolter gathered his courage and himself, leaping from the sill to land gently on the foot of the bed, poised to launch himself again if threatened.

Sensing his caution, I slowly extended my hand out to him. "Friends?"

Warily, Bolter glanced about, then slowly, cautiously, crept over to my outstretched hand.

As he butted against my fingers, some instinct caused me to reach over and scratch just behind his eye ridges. Ryeena silently squeezed my other hand as if to say "Yes!", and as I continued my gentle ministrations, the dizzying whirl of Bolter's eyes slowed, the color shaded from orange to a mix of green and blue, the muscles across his back and legs visibly relaxed, and a delicate thrumming sound came to my ears.

"He's purring!" I whispered, delighting in the sound while Ryeena, standing beside me, smiled and quietly wept.

"Well done, John, well done!" was Master Oldive's welcome praise.

Her hand still clutched in mine, I motioned Ryeena toward her little friend.

"Bolter?" she quietly spoke, her voice worried and pleading.

The little brown dragon looked to Ryeena from beneath my hand, and I felt a surge of such profound love, it left me breathless. With quiet joy, I watched as he leaped from the bed, chirruping as he soared about the room before finally coming to rest on Ryeena's shoulder. With infinite care, he twined his tail about her neck and gently rubbed his head against her tear-stained cheek.

"Oh, Bolter, will you ever forgive me?" Ryeena pleaded, tears flowing freely now.

He crooned softly to her, reassuringly nuzzling her cheek. Clearly, there was some unspoken, special bond between Ryeena and her little brown friend, and, to my surprise, I found I was just a little bit envious of them.

"Well," Master Oldive said, breaking through my reverie, "I think there's been enough excitement for one day. Silvina, some fellis wine, I think, would be good for our friend here."

"Fellis wine?" I asked.

"A very good Benden wine, John," Silvina explained as she mixed the drink, "with a bit of fellis juice to ease the pain and help you sleep. Right now, you need rest if you're to heal."

Silvina handed me the goblet, and, with Ryeena nodding encouragement, I sampled the drink. The wine was excellent, very smooth and palatable, the slightly bitter taste of what I guessed was the fellis juice all but lost in that marvelous bouquet.

"We'll listen to your story another time," Master Oldive spoke as he made for the door. "Rest now."

On a stomach empty of anything but my shipboard rations, the fellis juice acted so quickly that the circle of faces about me became a confused blur. The wine was excellent, but my stomach growled fiercely in protest to not getting food instead.

"And we'll make sure someone brings some food for you to eat the next time you're awake!"

After that, voices became indistinguishable mumbles. I was unable to focus my eyes. I seemed to be floating a few hand spans off the ground. Which suited me just fine because the pain, dizziness, and nausea had finally gone. My last conscious thought before my eyelids surrendered to sleep was of Ryeena's little friend. Had I truly felt those emotions from him, or was I dreaming?


	5. Chapter 5 - The People's Heart

Chapter 5

 _The People's Heart_

WHATEVER FELLIS WAS, IT WAS POTENT. I slept clear through until breakfast the following morning. If anyone had been within earshot when I awoke, my stomach would have left little doubt about my hunger. It roared its displeasure loudly and repeatedly to the point where I had to cover it with a pillow to muffle the rumblings.

Sunlight was just beginning to stream in through the window, and once again, the air was alive with a dizzying mix of smells and aromas. I inhaled deeply, delighting anew in the fragrances. There was a warm, empty depression in the pillow beside me that smelled faintly of spice. I was still pondering its significance when there came a quiet rap at the door, and Ryeena entered bearing a tray of food.

"Good morning, John!" she greeted me, smiling as she set the tray on a nearby table. "Sleep well?"

"Very well, thank you!" I cheerfully replied. "And you?"

"Much better, thanks," she answered, smiling warmly.

Bolter entered by way of the open window, chirruping happily in greeting before backwinging to a landing on Ryeena's shoulder.

"And a very good morning to you, little dragon!" I said, bowing my head to him.

He nodded in return, twittering delightfully.

"Feel up to trying something to eat?" Ryeena asked, her hand poised over the covered dishes on the tray.

My stomach answered for me, growling a long, deep affirmative. At first, Ryeena stared in amazement, Bolter cocking his head this way then that as if trying to analyze the strange sound, then Ryeena started giggling with amused delight.

"Any questions?" I asked, my face crimson with embarrassment, a sheepish grin on my face.

"None!" and Ryeena pulled the lid off the first of several dishes she had brought.

The aromas made my mouth water, and before I finally set my plate aside, I'd sampled every dish, finishing off nearly half the tray.

"Whoof!" I exclaimed, collapsing back against the pillows. "I haven't eaten like that in ages!"

"It's a good sign, John," Ryeena said, smiling as she moved the dishes out of the way.

"That reminds me. Ryeena, how'd you know I was awake? Surely you weren't waiting outside the door."

"I left Bolter here to keep an eye on you," she replied, stroking the little dragon's head knobs. "When I checked on you last night before I went to bed, he was comfortably curled up on the pillow beside you."

"Ahh! That explains it, then!" I said, looking back at the depression beside me. "Tell me, does he always smell like that?"

"Smell like what?" Ryeena bristled, thinking I was being insulting.

"Oh, I don't mean that in a bad way," I beseeched her, my hands up in supplication, and Ryeena relaxed a bit. "It's just that when I woke up this morning, there was a warm depression in the pillow beside me, and it smelled of spices. I was just wondering if all fire lizards smell like that."

"As far as I know, they do," Ryeena replied, stroking Bolter's neck ridge. "It is a pretty smell, isn't it?" Bolter responded by lovingly nuzzling Ryeena's cheek. "I'm told dragons have a similar smell."

The glass I was drinking from nearly crashed to the floor.

"Dragons?!" I stammered, eyes wide in astonishment.

Puzzled by my reaction, Ryeena was about to say something when a knock at the door interrupted.

"Ah! Good morning, John," greeted Master Oldive as he entered followed by Silvina and another man. "How are you feeling today?"

"Grateful to be alive, Master Oldive," I replied, settling against the pillows.

"His appetite is certainly healthy," Ryeena added, indicating the nearly empty food tray.

"A good sign, a very good sign," said Master Oldive, nodding as he checked my pulse and gave me the once over. "How are you feeling otherwise?"

"A little weak, still," I confessed, then chuckling, "but certainly better than the day of my untoward arrival on your world!"

"Even better, a sense of humor!" Oldive chuckled, smiling as he released my wrist. "Do you feel up to some company a little later today?"

"Company?"

"Seems word of your arrival has spread across Pern faster than Thread can burrow, John," the stranger spoke. "Craftmasters from all over Pern have been going over that strange star-craft of yours like kids with a new toy! It's clearly advanced, far more so than the Ancients' vessels we unearthed a scant seven Turns ago."

Thread? Craftmasters? Ancients? Turns? There was a lot I would need to learn about Pern, starting with its uniquely peculiar diction.

My ship! Sudden fear like a fist grabbing my heart sent chills up my spine.

"Master …" I began, nodding to the stranger.

"My apologies, John, I forget my manners," he said. "I am Masterharper Sebell of the Harper Hall."

Harper? This Pernese diction was going to take some getting used to.

"Master Sebell, please pass word to those examining my ship to exercise extreme caution. There are many facets of its design they will not be familiar with that could prove dangerous, even lethal. And though I am reasonably certain all of the propellants have been expended, there may be residual traces left, and they are extremely toxic in nature!"

"My thanks for the warning, John," said Sebell. "We'll pass the word along immediately to discontinue any further examinations until you are well enough to oversee it yourself."

"You mentioned company, Master Oldive?" I prompted, turning back to him.

"Indeed I did," he replied. "Seems the Weyrleaders from all across Pern have asked to see you!"

 _Weyrleaders?_ I silently pondered. _Stranger and stranger._

"But, Master Oldive!" Ryeena protested, her gentle hand resting protectively on mine. "Surely so soon after John's recovery, you wouldn't …"

Bolter chirruped nervously in concert with his young friend, his eyes shading to a worried orange as he glanced over in my direction.

"I told them," Master Oldive explained, holding up a hand to quiet Ryeena's concern, "that I would leave it up to the two of you," and with his hand, indicated Ryeena and me.

Squawking with indignation from atop Ryeena's shoulder, Bolter rocked back on his haunches, wings spread wide, glaring fiercely at Master Oldive as if to say, 'What am I, chopped wherry?', and I couldn't help chuckling to myself.

"Sorry, the three of you," Master Oldive apologized, nodding deferentially to Ryeena's little friend.

With a tiny snort, Bolter settled back to Ryeena's shoulder, flicking his wings to his back.

"I am reasonably confident, John, because of your star-voyaging experience, you would not knowingly overtax your strength." To Ryeena, he added, "Just as I'm certain Ryeena here will not let you."

Ryeena stiffened, a faint gasp escaping her lips, eyes flicking nervously first to Master Oldive then to me before she turned her head away. A hint of blush colored her cheeks, giving me the distinct impression there was more going on here than met the eye.

"Ryeena," I spoke, cocking my head to one side to look her in the face, "what does he mean?"

Her blush deepened.

"John, I …"

"Perhaps I should explain, John," Silvina responded, stepping over to the foot of the bed. "You see, ever since you were brought here to the Harper Hall nearly three seven-days ago, Ryeena has scarcely left your side except to eat, sleep, and use the necessary. And when she did leave, Bolter was always here to keep an eye on you." Ryeena squirmed nervously. Silvina smiled, warmed by the girl's shyness. "I think she's grown quite attached to you!"

"Whoa, hold on a sec!" I protested, raising my hands to slow events down a bit. "Three seven-days?" I paused a moment, confused by yet another twist of Pernese diction. "Seven-day? Seven days? A week?" I gasped, the shock of realization stealing my breath away. "You mean, I've been unconscious for nearly three weeks?!"

"You'd sustained some pretty serious injuries in the crash," explained Master Oldive, "including a severe concussion. But thanks to Ryeena's constant presence at your bedside, we were alerted to several brief episodes of semi-consciousness, and with her help, we were able to get enough nourishment into you to help sustain you."

My gaze returned to Ryeena who shyly turned away, and I began to see her in a whole new light.

"You saved my life!" I said, smiling as I gratefully squeezed Ryeena's hands.

"Oh, but it wasn't just me, John!" Ryeena protested, worriedly looking about. "Master Oldive and Silvina and the others … I couldn't have done it without their help!"

"True, Ryeena," Master Oldive acknowledged, and she visibly relaxed a bit. "However, your constant attention and tender loving care were largely responsible for the speed of John's recovery. You can be proud of what you accomplished!"

Ryeena blushed crimson, lowering her head and averting her eyes. Her reaction to such glowing praise puzzled me.

"Why so shy, Ryeena?" I asked, taking her hands in mine and squeezing them reassuringly. "I sense no deception in Master Oldive's words. He meant what he said."

I lifted her chin so that she would have to look at me.

"Maybe you did have help," I said, nodding to the others gathered in the room, "but when all's said and done, it was you who stayed with me and watched over me." Gently kissing her hands, I added, "It was you who saved my life. Thank you!"

"Oh, John, I was so scared!" Ryeena blurted out, burying her tear-stained face in my chest as she hugged me tightly. "You'd been hurt so bad in that crash, and you still saved me from those wherries! I had to do something to help you. I just had to!"

Twittering in distress, Bolter gently nuzzled his friend, his eyes blue and purple with the love and devotion he radiated.

"And you've done a remarkable job, too, my dear," Silvina added, stroking Ryeena's hair. "Our best apprentices have not shown the kind of patience and sacrifice you did. You have every reason to be proud of what you accomplished! We, certainly, are proud of you."

Ryeena looked up then into the faces of the people gathered round her, and a slow, tentative smile came to her lips.

"Thank you," she whispered, her expression timid.

There was something in her eyes as Ryeena turned to me, a shadow of self-doubt still lingering. Gently, I reached out to her, drawing her close, surrounding her with a warm and caring embrace. As I held her so, I felt the muscles of her slight frame slowly relax, the tension gradually easing within her, and Ryeena sighed contentedly. When she looked at me again, the doubt was gone, replaced by something unspoken and beautiful, a thing so precious it stole my heart away, and I found myself smiling.

"I'm glad I have you for a friend, Ryeena," I said finally, squeezing her hands once again in gratitude. "Thank you. But now, we have an important decision to make. So tell me, my pretty protector," my words bringing a hint of rosiness to Ryeena's cheeks though she didn't turn away, "when do you think would be a good time to meet our guests?"

Ryeena turned first to search the faces of Masters Oldive and Sebell, then she looked over to Silvina who was smiling encouragement, and finally back to me.

"I think tomorrow morning would be good," was Ryeena's reply as she sat on the edge of the bed beside me. "Don't you?"

"Tomorrow? But why the delay, Ryeena?" pondered Sebell as he seated himself on a stool.

"Today's the first time John's been awake and able to eat for himself, Master Sebell," she replied, a protective hand covering mine. "He needs time to eat and get his strength back. I know it's the Weyrleaders who want to see him, but a day's not too long to wait, is it?"

"There's something else to consider here," I added, recalling some of the details of my arrival on Pern.

"And what would that be, John?" inquired Master Oldive.

"During my descent to Pern, I couldn't help noticing how broad this northern continent is," I said, emphasizing my words by spreading my hands. "It may be early morning here, but I'm fairly certain it's midday at least and probably later than that in the eastern regions of the continent."

"Benden is six hours later in the day than we are," Sebell commented with a nod.

Benden, again. _In honor of Admiral Benden?_ I wondered.

"If these … weyrleaders, did you call them?" I said, receiving a nod from Master Sebell. "Well, if any of them are coming from the eastern regions of the continent, a morning meeting would not put them out as much as an afternoon or evening one would. No, I think Ryeena's got the right of it."

I reached over and gave her a quick hug of encouragement.

"Then why not arrange the visit about an hour or so before the midday meal?" Silvina offered. "Certainly, F'lar and Lessa couldn't object. And that way, no Weyr would be put out. Those wishing to can dine with us before returning home."

"An eminently practical solution, Silvina," Sebell replied, nodding as he rose from his stool. "We'll send word along to the Weyrs immediately. Until then, young lady, take good care of your friend."

"I will, Master Sebell," Ryeena assured him, beaming. "You can count on it!"

"Then, we'll see you again on the morrow, John," Sebell said, offering me his hand.

"Till then, Master Sebell," I acknowledged, shaking his hand.

"Nice going, kiddo," I told Ryeena, giving her a wink once our three visitors had departed. "You did real good!"

"Thanks, John," she replied, a glowing smile on her face. "I just hope the Weyrleaders don't mind the delay."

"I'm sure they won't, Ryeena," I told her, leaning back into the pillows. "Once Master Sebell and the others understood the reasons you insisted on a delay, they were fully supportive of you. I'm sure these Weyrleaders will be as equally understanding."

"I hope so, John," said Ryeena, a hint of nervousness coming through.

There was something about these Weyrleaders, something unique and unspoken, that had Ryeena either frightened or in awe of their presence.

"Ryeena, …"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, John," she apologized, blinking away her distracting thoughts. "You wanted something?"

"Ryeena, what's a harper?"

"A harper?"

"Yes! Master Oldive is known as a Masterhealer, and that much I can understand. A healer is someone who treats the sick and injured. Master Sebell is called a Masterharper. But what is a harper? I mean, what do they do?"

"Many things, actually. They all like music of one kind or another. They all sing or play, sometimes both."

"Sounds like they'd be great to have around at parties or other celebrations."

"No Gather or Hatching is complete without them!" Ryeena told me, smiling. "But they do more. They also listen to people and try to settle disagreements, hopefully to keep them from getting into a fight. Their Teaching Ballads, though, are the most important thing they do. With them, they teach us about the history of Pern and how we should do our duty to Hold, Hall, and Weyr."

"Seems a Harper plays many different tunes on your world." I commented. Then, with a hopeful expression, I asked, "Ryeena, would you be my harper?"

"What?!" she spluttered.

"Would you teach me about Pern? Teach me what you know?"

"But, John, I'm not a harper!" Ryeena protested, her hands held up in denial.

"You can still teach me what you know," I said, the look on my face pleading with her to accept. "There is so much I need to learn, to understand …"

"But, John …"

"There really is no reason why you couldn't teach him the things you know," a strange voice spoke.

Startled, Ryeena and I both turned to the open door in time to see a young woman enter, escorted by a veritable cloud of swirling, diving, and chittering fire lizards.

"Menolly!" Ryeena gasped, her words a barely heard whisper.

"By the stars!" I exclaimed, my head spinning as I tried to count how many there were. "Are they all yours?"

"Yes," the woman replied. Then, with a sweep of her arm, she added, "Alright, you lot, that's enough. Settle down!"

Abruptly, the air in the room stilled as the fair of fire lizards sought out places to roost. Four of them claimed the rail at the foot of my bed, three of them settled on the window ledge, two draped themselves over the arms of a convenient chair, and the final one came to rest on Menolly's shoulder.

With infinite care, it twined its long, flowing tail lovingly around Menolly's neck before turning to regard me. A fabulous creature, sunlight glinted off the golden hide like a morning sunburst as it regarded me, tilting its head first one way then the other.

"Spirits of my ancestors, what a beauty!" I sighed, admiring the diminutive golden dragon.

The little creature gave a squawk of surprise, staring at me for a long moment before turning to Menolly to chirrup a question, one which made her giggle.

"Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"No, John," Menolly assured me, stroking the little gold's neck ridge. "She was just wondering how you knew her name was Beauty."

"All you have to do is look at her!" I sighed, gesturing at the little gold with my hand. "No other description is adequate enough!"

This made Menolly smile, and Beauty, sensing we were talking about her, began preening herself with infinite care.

"Since you've already met Beauty, allow me to introduce the others," Menolly said. Turning to the foot of the bed, she said, "Over here we have Rocky, Uncle, Auntie One, and Mimic."

As each was introduced, they flipped their wings to their backs and nodded to me.

"Over on the window sill are Diver, Brownie, and Poll. This is Auntie Two …" Menolly reached over to scratch the eye ridges of a green fire lizard perched on one of the arms of the chair. Then, laughing, she added, "And that one, as you can see, is Lazybones!"

I laughed, too, for the poor creature had draped himself all over the chair's arm, his eyes already lidded, and was whistling a snore.

"Judging by Ryeena's reaction to your presence, Menolly," I began, turning back to our visitor, "I would guess you are a person of some importance here."

"No more than some others," was her cryptic reply as she glanced at Ryeena. "You've already met my husband, Sebell."

"Are you also a harper, then?" I inquired.

"Menolly is a masterharper, John," Ryeena shyly informed me. "The songs she has written are sung all across Pern!" Bowing her head, she whispered, "They are very beautiful."

"Would you sing one for me?" I asked. "I'd love to hear it!"

"On one condition," replied Menolly as she reached over to grasp Ryeena's gently trembling hands. "Your pretty protector here must sing with me!"

Ryeena's head jerked up, her eyes wide in shock, her mouth working in utter surprise.

"Oh, but I can't!" she protested, looking frantically from me to Menolly. "I mean, I don't sing that well!"

"Would you try for me?" I begged. "I promise I won't laugh. And when you're finished, I'll sing you one that I know."

From somewhere atop the pillows behind me, Bolter descended to my shoulder. As I turned to look at him, our eyes locked together. For a long moment, Bolter's gaze never left me, as if he were trying somehow to evaluate me, then he turned to Ryeena and gave a quiet trill as if saying, 'He means it.'

"Please?" I begged her, again.

"Alright," she said, sighing in resignation.

"Do you know the 'Fire Lizard Song', Ryeena?" Menolly inquired, swinging a heretofore unseen gitar to her lap.

"Yes," she demurely replied.

"Then, why don't you sing the melody," Menolly suggested as she tuned her gitar, "and I'll play the accompaniment and sing harmony with you. Okay?"

Ryeena nodded.

To me, Menolly added, "I should warn you, John, you may be surprised by what you're about to see and hear."

 _What could she mean?_ I silently wondered as Menolly began playing the opening bars of the song.

Drawing a deep breath to steady herself, Ryeena sat up a little taller, and, at the proper moment, began to sing.

"The little queen all golden

Flew hissing at the sea.

To stop each wave

Her clutch to save

She ventured bravely."

Ryeena was wrong. In spite of her protestations, she could sing, her voice a pleasure to listen to. At first, I was so intent on the beauty of the song and the loveliness with which Ryeena was singing it that I failed to notice what was happening around me. Five of Menolly's fair were also singing, their pure sweet trills soaring in delicate descant above the two human voices. They had risen to their haunches, their throats thickening, their cheeks swelling as their jaws relaxed to emit the sweet pure notes. Their eyes were half-lidded as they concentrated, as good singers will, to produce the fluting descant. When the song finally ended and the last echoes died away, I sat, mouth agape, stunned speechless by the beauty of it all.

"What's this? Nothing to say, John?" Menolly asked, smiling as she looked at me.

"There's no way I can hope to match that!" I finally managed to say after some difficulty, throwing my hands up in surrender. "Why didn't you warn me? No …" and I waved my comment aside, "no, that's unfair of me. You did try." Then, I turned to my young friend. "Ryeena, that was beautiful!"

"I know you're just saying that, John," she shyly spoke, averting her eyes, rosiness coloring her cheeks, "but, thanks."

"Masterharper Menolly," I spoke, turning to her, "what's your opinion of Ryeena's vocal acumen?"

"Well, her singing voice is unrefined," Menolly commented, eyeing Ryeena to gauge her reaction, "but it is nothing to be ashamed of. John's right, Ryeena. That was beautiful!"

She emphasized her point with a warm smile and gentle squeeze of Ryeena's hands.

"You mean it?"

"Absolutely!" was Menolly's instant reply, enthusiastically supported by excited trills and chirrups from the entire fair which made Menolly smile and Ryeena giggle, partly out of nervousness, mostly out of relief. "Believe me, Ryeena, I know exactly how you must feel. I, myself, went through some very trying times becoming a harper. But you did well just now."

"I was so nervous," Ryeena confessed, smiling shyly as she gratefully squeezed Menolly's hands. "You are such an important person in the Harper Hall … I never dreamt I'd have a chance to sing with you!"

"Perhaps I can offer a measure of how well you did, Ryeena," I said, glancing about me at the fair of fire lizards as they absently groomed themselves. "I don't think you were aware of it, but the only ones singing that last verse of the song were you and the fire lizards."

"What?!" she gasped, turning to stare at Menolly.

"It's true, my dear," Menolly assured her, patting Ryeena's hands gently. "You were doing so well, I thought I'd let you finish the song. Beauty and the others obviously liked your singing; that's why they continued to sing along with you even after I stopped."

Embarrassed by such praise, Ryeena lowered her head, but Menolly's firm yet gentle hand on her chin made her look up.

"No need for modesty, Ryeena. You were good!"

Beauty emphasized the point with a trill of agreement, making Ryeena smile.

"Now that we've heard from you, it's John's turn."

"I already told you, there's no way I can compete with that performance," I told them, my hands up in supplication.

"You promised," Menolly reminded me, wagging her finger teasingly at me.

"I did, didn't I?" I sighed, my hands flopping into my lap in resignation.

Ryeena and Menolly were both looking at me expectantly, and as I gazed about the room, the fire lizards, too, seemed keen with anticipation.

"Alright! Alright!" I laughed, throwing my hands up in capitulation, "I'll do it. Just no laughing, okay? In my weakened state, I don't think I could stand it."

Ryeena and Menolly exchanged quiet glances, then the two of them began sputtering with giggles. I glared at them in mock fierceness, frowning my disapproval, my arms crossed in front of my chest, and their mirth quickly subsided.

"Sorry," Ryeena apologized.

And close on her heels, "My apologies, John," was Menolly's response.

I frowned at them for just a moment longer, then a slow smile curled the one corner of my mouth before I burst out laughing, Ryeena and Menolly joining me. The fire lizards chirped and twittered about us, puzzled by our strange actions, and it took several minutes for the spate of giggling to finally subside.

"Oh, now where were we?" I pondered, wiping laugh tears from my eyes. "Oh, yes. What to sing?"

Several choices came to mind, but I discarded each after a moment's consideration. Then, one song, a favorite of mine, came to the fore, and I smiled at the memories it stirred.

I began singing, softly at first, gently; a quiet, peaceful tune. True to her musical calling, Menolly quickly picked up the melody of the song and began to play her gitar to accompany me.

The combination of sounds was wonderful to listen to, and I began to relax and sing with a bit more enthusiasm. Ryeena, sitting on the bed next to me was nodding to the rhythm, her hand tapping out the beat on her leg.

Menolly was eyeing me closely, deftly playing the music to my singing, but her eyes held just a hint of frustration, and it was with a start that I realized why. She wanted to sing along with me but couldn't because the language I was singing in was foreign to her — for that matter, to anyone from Pern — the song one I'd learned during my time spent among the Kendites, and especially with my friend, Keymon. I continued the song, nodding silently to Menolly that I understood, and she smiled in reply.

Then, the most amazing thing happened. As I began the fourth verse of the song, Bolter scrambled up the pillows to a perch on my left shoulder and one of Menolly's bronzes flitted to the other. Clasping my ears gently to steady themselves, the two fire lizards quietly added their own voices to mine, and I faltered, however briefly, in my singing because of the almost dreamlike quality the song took on. Ryeena and Menolly were similarly affected, judging by the looks of surprise on their faces.

But the biggest surprise was yet to come, for on the fifth and final verse, a new voice joined our impromptu chorus, and this time it was Menolly's turn to falter, her fingers striking several sour notes on her gitar. Lazybones, astride the chair arm, was singing along with the rest of the fair! He had risen to his haunches, his wings spread, his eyes half-lidded as he concentrated on the notes he was singing, and the look of thunderstruck astonishment on Menolly's face left no doubt that he'd never done this before!

The song ended as quietly as it had begun, and for a long moment, no one spoke, held in thrall by the magic we'd experienced. It was Lazybones who finally broke the spell, snoring soundly as he settled back to the arm of the chair.

"By the First Egg!" Ryeena whispered, her voice filled with awe.

"By the stars!" Menolly chimed in, her hands trembling.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I exclaimed, eyes threatening to pop from their sockets.

It was several more minutes before any of us moved.

"That song, John …" Menolly finally managed to say after gently setting her gitar aside, "where did you hear it?"

"And what were those words you were speaking?" added Ryeena, wonder glittering in her eyes. "I've never heard them before."

"The song," I began, "I learned from a very dear friend of mine. And the words … I was singing in my friend's native language." Turning to the Harper, I added, "I'm sorry, Menolly. I could see it in your eyes but couldn't help you."

"Who is your friend, John? Where does he come from?" were Menolly's questions in response.

"His name is Keymon, and they call their world Pun Ch'lar," I said, my mind drifting back to those special times, "the 'People's Heart'. It circles one of the distant stars you can see in your night sky. They are a warm and gentle people, friendly and peaceful. He comes from a race of intelligent felines who walk upright like you or I."

"Felines?!" Ryeena exclaimed, her eyes wide with fright.

"Yes," I replied. "Why?"

"But felines are killers!" she cried, disturbed by this revelation. "Ruthless and savage! Thank the Egg they're limited to the Southern Continent!"

"I have personally seen the Southern felines, John," Menolly added, a shudder traveling the length of her body. "I have seen what they can do. It's not that we doubt your words, we just find it hard to grasp that there might be an intelligent species of felines that are peaceful by nature."

"All you have to do is listen to their song, Masterharper," I replied. "It tells the story of their world and its beauty, their philosophy and way of life."

"It is a lovely song," Ryeena relented, though still uncertain. Abruptly, she straightened, planting her fists on her hips, and glared at me. "I thought you said you couldn't sing very well!"

I exploded with laughter.

"Any other day I'd've agreed with you, Ryeena," I giggled, shaking my head with disbelief, "but who would've expected what just happened?" I looked first to Bolter then to Menolly's bronze still perched atop my shoulders. "Which one is this, again?"

"Rocky," she answered, smiling proudly as I stroked the little bronze's neck ridge. "He's always been one of my better singers. But I never expected to see or hear Lazybones here join in!" Menolly stroked the little fire lizard's head knobs till he started crooning with delight. "In all the Turns since his hatching, he's never uttered a sound while the others were singing! I really must tell Sebell about this!"

"No need," a quiet voice responded, and we whirled to find the Masterharper standing in the open door.

"Did you get to hear any of it?" Menolly asked him.

"Nearly half the Hall heard that performance," was Sebell's reply as he pulled a stool over to sit on.

Excited whispers reached our ears from the doorway, and we could see a sizeable crowd gathered in the Hall beyond. Additional voices filtered in through the open window, and Ryeena gasped when she looked out to see the size of the crowd gathered below.

"Tell me, John, are you a singer where you come from?"

"No, Master Sebell, I'm afraid not," I replied, eyes downcast. "I've never considered myself much of a singer, …"

"But you're a good singer!" was Ryeena's instant protestation as she covered my hands with her own.

"Thanks, Ryeena," I said, smiling. Then, looking up at Sebell, "Keymon was a very dear friend of mine. It was his people who first taught me their language and then shared the beauty of their music with me. They treated me like family, and their friendship meant a lot to me."

"Yes, that's certainly plain enough," said Sebell, nodding. "The fire lizards obviously found the music enjoyable … even Lazybones! And thanks to you, John, it is the first song brought to our world from another civilization, another culture. Tell me, would you be able to copy it down for us?"

"While I would dearly love to, Master Sebell, I only know how to sing the song. I never learned how to write music."

"Then, we'll get someone to copy for you," Menolly said, "and later you can write down the words for us. What do you say?"

"You really liked that song?" I wondered aloud, looking about at the intent faces around me.

"It's an enchanting song, John," Sebell told me, Bolter nuzzling my cheek to show his agreement. "And in spite of what you may think, you sang splendidly." With a look of entreaty on his face, he added, "Would you sing it again for me? I came in about halfway through that performance."

"You're serious!?" I cried in disbelief, staring first at Sebell then the others that had slowly gathered in the room and the hall beyond.

"Please?" he again entreated me.

As it eventually worked out, we performed the song three more times: the first time so Sebell could hear the song in its entirety, the second so that one of the Harpers could copy down the musical score, and the third, reluctantly, because there was such a clamor for it, as an encore to the first two. Each time, Menolly would accompany me on her gitar, her fair of fire lizards singing a wondrous descant, with Lazybones joining us for the last verse. Such a profound silence followed the final note of the last performance that we shook off the spell of it with difficulty. It was Ryeena, though, who, sensing the strain I was under, finally moved to put an end to the impromptu recital, shooing everyone out of the room.

"There will be time enough later," she said as she pushed several of the visitors out the door, "when John's recovered his strength. Now, scoot!"

After some playful cajoling and much pleading, Ryeena finally relented and agreed to teach me what she knew about Pern. Masterharper Menolly even appointed her as a special apprentice harper with an injunction to conduct the teaching as she saw fit. Ryeena was very patient with me, and for that, I was exceedingly grateful. Time and again I stopped her to ask questions about all the puzzling facets of Pern, its history, and its society. The midday and evening meals became annoying distractions, although Silvina thoughtfully sent food up to my room so that we could carry on with the lessons without interruptions. I knew nothing about Pern, that lapse a vacuum I was desperately trying to fill, so Ryeena's lessons continued around mouths full of food and hands cradling cups of drink.

I couldn't help but admire Ryeena and her dedication to her task. She took her harpering duties very seriously, our first tutoring session running long into the wee hours of the morning. We probably would have continued on without surcease — Ryeena as eager to impart her knowledge as I was to receive it — that is, until Silvina, nightgowned and glowbasket in hand, stopped by to remind us that we would both need our sleep if we were to properly greet the Weyrleaders in the morning.

"The two of you are nearly as bad as Master Robinton used to be," came Silvina's stern remonstration as she glared at us from the door, "carrying on to all hours with nary a thought for his health or proper rest. Now, off with you, Ryeena. Bolter's been keeping your bed warm long enough!"

"How late is it?" she inquired, yawning as she glanced out the window at the star-filled sky.

"Well past two of the clock, young lady," was Silvina's whispered reply, crossing the room to help my young friend rise from the stool, "and time you were off to bed. Now, hurry yourself along before Bolter comes looking for you."

Ryeena reluctantly rose and quietly moved toward the door, giving me a sheepish grin before finally quitting the room.

"You, too!" Silvina hissed, keeping her voice down as she pointed at the bed.

"Silvina," I began as I slowly settled myself beneath the sleeping furs, "who is Master Robinton?"

"Robinton?"

"Yes. In spite of your words, I sense a very deep respect for him within you."

Silvina sighed, her eyes taking on a sad and distant look. "An irascible old fool and a very dear man, John, loved and respected throughout Pern. He's been gone from us now for some time."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, snuggling comfortably into the rushes. "Judging by the way you speak of him, I'm sure he'd've been a remarkable and fascinating man to meet."

"I'll tell you all about him," Silvina remarked as she tucked the sleeping fur in around my chin, "but in the morning. Now, sleep!"

"Yes, ma'am."

With a chuckle, Silvina dimmed the last of the glows in the room then quietly departed.

"What an astonishing world I have come to," I mused, catching a glimpse of a shooting star as I glanced out the window at the star-speckled velvet of the night sky. "There's so much yet to learn," I sighed, settling back on the rushes, my eyes slowly relenting to the grip of sleep, "so very much … so much …"

Lulled by the warmth of the sleeping furs, I finally drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6 - The Quest Retold

Chapter 6

 _The Quest Retold_

Where once there was naught, now there are words

Before, only silence; now they are heard

Illusions, I thought, this is surely absurd

How is it I hear these dragon words?

SILVINA WAS AS GOOD AS HER WORD. Promptly at dawn, food tray in hand, she arrived at my door at nearly the same moment as Ryeena. And while the two of us sat and ate, the Harper Hall headwoman introduced us to Robinton, one-time Masterharper of Pern and her very dear friend. When she had finished her tale, it was a long time before either Ryeena or I could speak.

"Now I know I'm sorry I never had a chance to meet the man," I finally managed, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. "Silvina, that was wonderful. Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," added Ryeena, her voice reduced to an awed whisper.

"You're both welcome," Silvina replied, smiling. "Now, you'd best go get ready, my dear. The Weyrleaders will be arriving soon."

"Yes, Silvina."

As Ryeena quietly left the room, the Harper Hall headwoman began gathering up the items from the food tray.

"Silvina, …"

"Yes, John," she responded, setting the dirty dishes and utensils aside. "What is it?"

"These Weyrleaders, they are people of some import here on Pern?"

"Very. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I'd hate to give them the wrong impression," I said, looking askance at the tattered remains of my underthings.

"I'll see what I can do," Silvina replied, chuckling as she picked up the tray and departed.

A short time later, the Harper Hall headwoman returned with several apprentices in tow, each with an arm draped with clothes for me to try. After some quick measurements, I was fitted with a lovely deep blue tunic and handsomely overstitched leather jerkin. We passed on trousers, still abed as I was, but Silvina thoughtfully left several pair in the room's wardrobe along with soft boots for later.

Reasonably attired at last, I ran a brush through my matted tangle of hair. Glancing at my reflection in a hand mirror, I felt a whole lot better about facing our soon-to-arrive guests.

"Well, look at you!" exclaimed Ryeena as she entered, bedressed in a lovely gown of deep forest green. "You look great! And harper blue, no less!"

"And what about you?" I asked, nodding my approval of the gown. "You are positively stunning!"

"Thanks!" she demurely replied, her cheeks aflush. "Silvina found it for me so I'd have something to wear when we greet the Weyrleaders." Fingering the fabric of the gown, she added, "It's so pretty. I don't have anything of my own this fine."

"You like it?" Silvina inquired, bustling about the room as she tidied up.

"It's gorgeous!" crooned Ryeena, pirouetting in front of the mirror to get a good look at herself.

"Then, it's yours, my dear."

Ryeena's head snapped about, her breath catching, as she stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the Harper Hall headwoman.

"But, I can't!" she protested, hands up in refusal. "Silvina, it's much too nice a gown to just give away!" A tiny sob escaping her trembling lips, eyes downcast and a tear running down her cheek, she added, "It's a lovely gown, but I don't have the marks to buy it from you."

"Consider it your reward, then, dear child," Silvina told her, a gentle hand on Ryeena's cheek to calm her fears, "for all the time and effort you spent nursing John back to health."

I all but cheered aloud.

"You've earned it, Ryeena." Silvina assured her. Then, stepping back to get a better perspective, she declared, "I must say, it does look very fetching on you!"

"Oh, but Silvina …"

"Don't 'oh but Silvina' me," the woman said sharply, but her expression was mocking, not stern. "You are a special apprentice harper, child, and we" — Silvina tapped her chest smartly with her fingers — "have appearances to maintain."

"Please, Ryeena?" I begged as I gently grasped her hands. "Accept it for me?"

Ryeena bit her lower lip uncertainly. Searching my heart for just the right words to say, I glanced first at Silvina then back to my friend.

"I'd buy it for you myself had I the money, Ryeena. And it's the very least I owe you for all that you've done for me." A desperate, hopeful look on my face, I added, "Please?"

"Oh, John!" Ryeena wept, hugging me as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Of course, I will! Thank you!"

"Say, I just noticed something," I commented, looking about the room. "Where's Bolter?"

"He's keeping watch so we'd know when the Weyrleaders arrive," she replied, wiping joyful tears from her face.

Off in the distance, a strange, haunting cry lifted through the air, stirring half-forgotten memories of the dreams I'd been having. Many others answered that lone cry, and, for a moment, I thought I heard voices in those cries. Heard, yet somehow, not heard. And the words: unrecognized, yet perfectly clear — Baranth, Heth, Caylith, Lioth, Ramoth, Mnementh. I shook my head trying to clear the confusion I felt.

At the same moment, a keening trill split the air as Bolter flashed through the open window, flitting about with intense agitation. Ryeena's breath caught as she picked up the impressions her little friend was broadcasting. Gulping nervously, she turned anxious eyes my way. "The Weyrleaders are here!"

"Try to calm him down, Ryeena," Silvina ordered, pointing to Bolter as he darted nervously from one part of the room to another. "I'll go greet our guests and escort them up. And, don't worry …" she added, pausing to wink at Ryeena from the open doorway, "you'll do just fine!"

Silvina left us then, and after several anxious minutes, Ryeena managed to coax her little brown friend into settling on her shoulder.

"John, …"

"I have complete faith in you, Ryeena," I told her, squeezing her hands reassuringly. "Just believe in yourself, okay?" I added with a wink of my own.

"I'll try, John, I'll try."

"I know you will."

"Lessa!" Silvina called out, waving a greeting as she hurried down the steps to where the others had gathered.

"We really should get together more often," the Benden Weyrwoman responded, hugging her friend. "How about Ramoth and I pop you up to Benden for the next Hatching?"

"Love to!" Silvina responded. "You're looking well, F'lar."

"It's always a pleasure visiting the Harper Hall, Silvina," the Benden Weyrleader replied, bowing to kiss her hand. "You know the others, I believe?"

"Of, course. G'dened, Cosira, welcome." Silvina graciously bowed to the two riders from Ista Weyr. "N'ton, Margatta …" nodding to the two Fort Weyr leaders. "And K'van! I see the sunny climes of the Southern Continent agree with you!"

K'van smiled back through a face browned from long hours in the sun.

"Is everything ready?" Sebell inquired, approaching from the main hall.

"Yes," Silvina replied but held up a warning hand as everyone moved toward the stairs. "A word with all of you, first."

"Is something wrong?" inquired Lessa. "Is the offworlder …"

"John is recovering nicely, Weyrwoman," Silvina replied, the polite rebuff not lost to Lessa, "thanks in no small measure to the constant and loving ministrations of his young friend, Ryeena, who's been looking after him for the past three sevendays. It is she I wish to speak to you about.

Ryeena has formed quite an attachment to John which I believe goes beyond mere gratitude for his saving her from the wherries. It was her suggestion that we delay this meeting to give John time to rest, eat, and recover his strength, yesterday being the first time he'd been able to eat on his own."

"Ryeena has also learned her Teaching Ballads well, Dragonriders," Menolly added, descending the stairs to join the group. "At John's behest, as my special apprentice, she's been dutifully passing that knowledge on to him."

"With an overabundance of zeal," Silvina chuckled, good-naturedly. "I had to chase the two of them off to their beds well past two of the clock this morning!"

The others joined their laughter with Silvina's, and when it finally subsided, she added, "Ryeena holds all of you in the highest of reverence, Dragonriders. Her fear is that she may have angered one of you by insisting on the delay."

"Nonsense," Lessa disagreed. "The child has acted with courage and good sense, and I'm sure I speak for everyone here."

All the dragonriders nodded agreement.

"Now, where is the child? I'm anxious to meet her, and we're all looking forward to meeting the offwor … I mean, John."

"This way," Silvina replied, leading them up the stairs.

Moments later, there was a knock at my door. Ryeena went to answer it.

"Please come in," she said, opening the door fully and beckoning everyone to enter.

The moment the newcomers entered the room, I could feel it — an aura of strength and courage radiated from each of them.

 _These must be the ones,_ I surmised, nodding to each as they entered, _the Weyrleaders. The ones Ryeena's been so worried about._

When everyone had entered, Ryeena rejoined me by my bedside, Bolter sitting quietly astride her shoulder.

"Weyrleaders, Weyrwomen, Masters," Ryeena addressed them, bowing to all, "permit me to introduce my friend and our star-traveling visitor, John."

I nodded respectfully to the assembled group.

"He looks just like us!" one of the Weyrwomen exclaimed.

Amused by her reaction, the corners of my mouth turned up slightly in a smile. Glancing over at Ryeena, I saw the same quirk of a smile mirrored on her face. Bolter merely snorted quietly.

"Well, he certainly looks healthy enough," the small, fine-boned, dark-haired Weyrwoman commented, coming over to stand next to the bed. Then, turning to Ryeena, she said, "So you're the one who insisted on delaying this meeting."

"Yes, Weyrwoman," Ryeena replied, standing tall, though only I seemed to notice her hand trembling slightly.

"Not many youngsters your age would have had the courage to stand up to the Weyrs as you did, child," the woman said, nodding as she smiled at Ryeena. "You've a fair dollop of good sense thrown in, too. I've been looking forward to meeting you. My friends call me Lessa," and the woman extended her hand. "It's a real pleasure."

"The … the pleasure is all mine, Weyrwoman," Ryeena stammered, gulping nervously as she took the offered hand to shake.

Nodding in my direction, Lessa inquired, "Does he speak our language?"

"I speak over a dozen different intergalactic languages fluently, Weyrwoman," I replied, drawing a gasp and startled glance from her. "English is but one of them. Masterharpers Menolly and Sebell have already sampled another."

"And such a splendid language, too," Menolly commented as she came over. "John introduced it to us through a song he knew."

"You really should make occasion to hear it, Lessa," added Sebell. "'Keymon's Song' it's being called in honor of John's friend who first taught it to him. Sung to the accompaniment of Menolly's fair of fire lizards, the song takes on an almost dream-like quality. It's really quite breath-taking!"

"What world does this song come from?" another of the Weyrmen inquired.

"And you are …" I said, glancing his way.

"A thousand apologies, John," said Sebell, stepping forward. "Proper introductions have not yet been made. Allow me to present the Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen of Pern."

Indicating the man who'd just spoken, "This is Weyrleader N'ton of Fort Weyr and his weyrmate, Margatta."

"A pleasure," I replied, shaking their hands.

"From Ista Weyr, we have Weyrleader G'dened and his lovely Weyrwoman Cosira."

"She is lovely, indeed, Weyrleader," I commented as I shook his hand.

"Flatterer," Cosira rejoined, smiling as we shook hands.

"The tanned one over there is Weyrleader K'van," Sebell explained, pointing to the younger of the Weyrleaders, "newly of Southern Weyr in the Southern Continent."

"Lord K'van …" I said, nodding acknowledgement.

"And, finally, the pride of Pern," Sebell spoke, bowing elaborately, the display making Lessa snort in mock refute, "the much honored Weyrleader F'lar and his Weyrwoman Lessa from Benden Weyr!"

"Benden?" I gasped, pausing suddenly in the midst of shaking the Weyrleader's hand.

"Why, yes!" F'lar acknowledged, a puzzled look on his face. "Does that mean something to you, John?"

Did it mean something?! A grin slowly spread across my face, threatening to crack it wide open.

"John, what is it?" Ryeena asked, touching my arm, her expression confused. "Why are you smiling?"

Bolter's curious chirp mirrored Ryeena's bewilderment, his eyes a slowly whirling orange as he regarded me.

"Weyrleader," I said, addressing F'lar, "you've no idea how happy I am to learn that the preeminent Weyr on Pern is named after so honored a man as Admiral Paul Benden."

"How is it you know about Admiral Benden, John?" Sebell inquired. "We only just learned about him a short while ago!"

"Where exactly do you come from, John?" F'lar inquired, leaning back in his chair.

This 'Weyrleader' affected only mild curiosity, but the keen look of interest in his eyes belied his casual air.

"From a very long ways from here, Weyrleader," I told them, looking about at the others. "In the night skies above you, around one of the stars you can see, circles a world called Altair VI, a world where I lived a good number of years of my life."

"A year?" N'ton politely inquired.

"What do you call a full cycle of the seasons here on Pern?" I asked Ryeena.

"We call it a Turn," she replied, smiling.

"A number of Turns, then," I corrected myself. "But the world where I was born and raised circles a different star in another corner of the heavens. And it was well known to your Admiral Benden and the rest of his companions, for it was from there that he and the over 6,000 other colonists set out over two and a half millennia ago on a 15-Turn, one-way journey to a new world and a new way of life here on Pern."

"You're from Earth?!" F'lar gasped, nearly falling out of his chair, his pronouncement greeted by astonished gasps from everyone in the room and matched by eerie, haunting buglings from somewhere outside.

"You're really from the homeworld of the Ancients?" questioned Ryeena, leaning closer, her voice suffused with wonder.

Bolter trilled in concert with his young friend, his tiny eyes awhirl mirroring Ryeena's excitement.

"Yes," I muttered, eyes downcast, a tear running unbidden down my cheek as I barely managed to stifle a sob.

"What's wrong?" asked K'van.

A gentle hand was placed on my arm, and I turned to see Ryeena looking worriedly at me.

"John, what is it? Why are you so sad?"

"Earth doesn't remember you," I muttered, shaking my head despondently. Then, looking up at the faces gathered around me, I added, "Or, more correctly, they've been made to forget you!"

There was such anger in my words, on my face, and in my eyes that those nearest me drew back, startled by its intensity.

"Made to forget?" pondered G'dened, a trifle worried by the implications of my words. "I'm not sure I understand."

"It's like this …"

And so, I explained to everyone about my quest, what I'd discovered during my investigations, about the oddly complete lack of any reference to the Pern Expedition in any historical records, and of my suspicions about what the FSP had done.

"When I think of how those people … how they … they … Arrggh!"

Seething with anger and frustration, I snatched up one of the pillows behind me and sent it sailing, causing several of those assembled to duck out of the way.

The thrown pillow, as if fleeing my anger, quietly exited the room through an open window. There was a startled exclamation from outside and I heard a low, rumbling voice complaining about being hit in the face. Oddly enough, the voice seemed to echo inside my head. F'lar, his eyes unfocusing for the briefest of moments, smiled.

"Damn them all to an eternal hell!" I cursed, squirming in impotent rage beneath the covers. "How could they do such a thing to such noteworthy people?"

"Take it easy, John," Ryeena calmly spoke as she gently tried to pry the sleeping fur from my hands, my knuckles white with rage about the gathered material. "Maybe Earth no longer honors them, but we do!"

"Ryeena's right, John," Sebell added, moving closer. "And while we may have forgotten about the Ancients over the many Turns since they first came to Pern, it was only because we had, over time, lost the knowledge and the means to preserve the Record skins, the inscriptions fading with age and disuse. It is, perhaps, fitting, then, that the last on Earth who still honors our ancestors should join us here at a time when we are rediscovering them." Sebell offered me his hand. "Welcome to Pern, John," and, smiling, he added, "welcome home!"

I shook his hand gratefully.

"Aye! Well come, indeed!" F'lar added, offering his hand in turn.

"Thank you, Weyrleader," I said, grinning broadly as I clasped his hand firmly. Then, looking about the room, "Thank you all!"

"Here, I believe this is yours," G'dened interjected, tossing a pillow to me.

"Where did you …"

"Mnementh handed it in through the window," F'lar answered. Then, laughing, he added, "You hit him in the face with it!"

My heart stopped. "Mnementh?"

The voices I'd heard! Abruptly, the room dimmed as sunlight slanting in through the open window was blocked by an enormous bulk just outside. My breath caught, my heart leaping to my throat as I stared, astonished and uneasy, into the slowly whirling red eye of an enormous bronze-colored head peering in through the open window.

 _Power,_ a low, deep voice rumbled in my head, _I sense great power in this one._

"Mnementh seems to think there's something special about you, John," F'lar commented absently. Then, in an affectionate tone, he added, "Mnementh, move your great bulk! You're blocking our light!"

The mighty bronze blinked, gave a wistful little rumble, but removed his massive head. I gulped loudly, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst.

"What … what was that?"

"Mnementh, my dragon," F'lar answered, smiling. "Probably wanted to see who had had the audacity to hit him with a pillow!"

The others laughed good-naturedly.

"A dragon?" The last syllable came out as a pitiful squeak, my hand grasping my throat in embarrassment.

My dreams!

"That's right, John. These men and women are all Dragonriders," Sebell explained, indicating the gathered Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen. "They and their dragons defend all Pern from the ravages of Thread."

Once again, the light in the room dimmed, and we could see Mnementh's whirling eye once more peering through the window.

"Some dragons are a bit more curious than others," F'lar remarked, reaching out the window to scratch Mnementh's eye ridge.

 _He comes from the ancient place?_ the deep voice rumbled again in my head.

"Yes, old friend, John's from Earth," replied F'lar, giving his dragon an affectionate clout on the nose.

"It can't be," I whispered, the sound barely audible.

 _It is good,_ hummed Mnementh, his gaze fixing on me. _He belongs here!_

"It's settled, then!" F'lar announced to the others, chuckling with delight. "Even Mnementh feels this is where John belongs!"

The others joined F'lar in laughter, amused by the draconic conclusion.

I, however, was anything but amused. Spirits of my ancestors, I had _heard_ F'lar's dragon! Somehow, his words were as clear to me as any of the people gathered in the room!

Impossible, I vigorously denied, remembering how miserably I'd failed every test for telepathy and empathy the Academy had put me through. Got to be an hallucination brought on by my injuries, I reasoned.

The room began to swim about me, my heart beating a discordant counterpoint to the motion, the color draining from my face as I sank limply back against the pillows, my hands trembling.

"Shells!" F'lar cursed, witnessing my sudden pallor. "Master Oldive!" he spoke, waving the Healer over.

One hand on my wrist, the other on my forehead, the Masterhealer's brow furrowed with concern.

"He's still not fully recovered, Weyrleader," Oldive pronounced, pulling the sleeping fur up around me. "We'd best give him some time to rest. We can continue this discussion at a later time."

"Yes, of course," F'lar remarked, nodding as he turned to leave.

"Wait!" I croaked, holding up a pleading hand.

"John?" Ryeena was instantly at my side, Bolter twittering anxiously as I pushed the sleeping fur back down.

"Please, don't go," I gasped, waving for them to stay.

"John, you don't look well," argued Ryeena, holding me down by my shoulder. "You need rest."

"We can come back another time when you're feeling better," Lessa added, a brief look of concern crossing her face.

"No, I'm … I'm alright," I assured them, drawing several deep breaths to slow my racing heart and still the dizziness. "Please, I must explain."

At my urging, everyone slowly moved back into the room. Ryeena, worry and a touch of fear written on her face, took a seat on the bed next to me while the others resumed their previous places.

"The night I first found the Pern Charter," I began, my voice trembling a bit from the effort, "I started having strange dreams."

"What kind of dreams?" asked Master Oldive.

"Dreams of a mysterious, far-off world," I replied, eyes closed as I recalled the images. "In some of those dreams, I saw …"

"Go on, John," prompted Ryeena when I hesitated. "What did you see?"

"Great winged beasts," I answered, "immense and powerful, soaring through a greenish sky."

Ryeena's startled gasp was matched by murmurs from the others in the room.

"Their hides glistened in the sun," I continued, "in shades of green, blue, brown, bronze, and gold."

"The colors of dragons!" K'van exclaimed.

"Other dreams came first," I told them, eyes shut tight against the horror that sent tremors the length of my being.

Ryeena's gentle hand touched my shoulder, offering comfort.

"Nightmarish, frightening dreams," I whispered, finding it difficult to speak about them.

"Go on, John," Cosira encouraged me when I paused. She had joined Ryeena on the bed, sitting down by my feet. "You're among friends now."

The others were smiling or nodding as I glanced about the room, and I gulped nervously before continuing.

"I was wandering the plains of that dream world," I said, "the sun brilliant in the sky, the wind gently blowing. Then, a nameless fear like a cold, creeping fog would sweep over me, and I'd look back over my shoulder to see an ominous gray line of clouds low on the horizon."

This elicited startled gasps from everyone in the room.

"Go on, John," F'lar prodded, leaning forward in his seat.

"As the clouds got closer, I could see they stretched clear to the ground," I told them, "only the clouds weren't gray … they were silver."

Every eye in the room got suddenly much larger.

"I don't know why the sight of it terrified me, but I would start running from it as fast as I possibly could." A new wave of tremors rippled through my body. "Only, it was never fast enough, and that silver curtain of rain would finally overtake me. The pain!"

The horror of the recalled memory doubled me over, and I sat, trembling violently, rocking back and forth, clutching my knees to my chest.

"The pain!" I repeated, lips quivering uncontrollably. "Whatever it was that fell on me burned with its touch, consuming my body totally, and I'd wake up screaming, drenched in sweat."

"Threadfall!" someone gasped, and I looked up to a room full of ashen faces, every eye filled with horror.

Beside me on the bed, Ryeena was holding her trembling hands over her mouth, desperately trying not to scream.

F'lar could read the question on my face, but instead, he asked, "In your dreams, John, do you remember which direction you saw the silver curtain come from?"

"Direction?" He nodded and I paused, trying to recall. "Well, the sun was high in the sky and I was facing its general direction. That would have been south, I think. But, each time when I'd feel that ominous foreboding, I'd look back over my shoulder to see that low-hanging gray to the northeast."

Ryeena's tiny yelp startled me, and when I turned to face her, she was staring at me with eyes so wide with fright I was worried that they'd pop from their sockets. Bolter, on the other hand, was leaning forward from her shoulder, wings spread, eyes whirling a brilliant red, hissing loudly, his tongue flicking in and out.

"By the First Egg!" F'lar whispered.

"What is it?" I asked uneasily, glancing about the room at the horror in everyone's eyes.

"What you've just described, John, is the sole reason for the existence of the Dragonriders," F'lar replied, nodding to the others. "We call it Thread."

"Thread?"

"Yes. During a Pass, when the Red Star's orbit carries it through our solar system, it draws debris from the Oort Cloud along with it. In that debris are spores, spores that rain down on Pern and are changed by the fiery heat of reentry into silver Thread, a voracious, mindless organism that burns with its touch and consumes any organic matter."

I gasped in spite of myself, staring bewildered at F'lar.

"Are you telling me that what I dreamt about actually takes place here on Pern?!"

F'lar nodded. "Our ancestors bred the dragons from their smaller cousins, the fire lizards, in order to combat the scourge of Thread."

"Hmm, that would have been the work of Kitti Ping Yung," I commented, brows furrowed as I contemplated the feasibility of such a monumental undertaking. "She had no equal in the field of biogenetic engineering, save for her mentors, the Eridani themselves."

"You seem to know an awful lot about our ancestors, John," commented N'ton, others nodding along with him.

"No more than what I unearthed during my quest, Dragonrider," I replied, "or learned previously from my teachings. Part of my Academy training was in the field of biogenetics. Kitti Ping's name figured prominently in a great deal of the literature we studied. And Admiral Benden's exploits are legendary throughout the Federated Sentient Planets, compulsory study material at the Academy."

"It would appear these were more than mere dreams you had, John," Menolly said, drawing the obvious conclusion, "judging by your all-too-vivid descriptions."

"Indeed," Lessa concurred. "More like premonitions of things you would encounter once you reached Pern."

"I get the feeling, though, that we haven't heard the whole story," Sebell commented, his expression noncommittal, unreadable, "have we, John?"

I regarded Sebell for a long moment before speaking. How had he known? I nodded an affirmative.

"One night the death dream changed," I said, picking up my narrative again. "Everything was happening just like before," and I couldn't help noticing the terror in Ryeena's tear-glistened eyes, "but then, just as I felt sure the… Thread… would fall on me, something grabbed me from behind and bore me aloft! I was so surprised by the sudden rescue, at first I didn't look to see who it was. All I could do was stare back at the receding… Threadfall… and cheer like a drunken fool I was so overjoyed!"

Ryeena's sigh of relief was almost comical, and I noted the others in the room also relaxed a bit.

"It was only after the shock of my escape wore off that I turned to see who or what had rescued me. The massive body, I couldn't see all of it, was golden in color, filmy gossamer wings propelling us through the air. The hide was remarkably soft to the touch, and as I turned, my gaze met a pair of very large rainbow-colored eyes. They whirled slowly, the colors swirling and blending hypnotically, and I couldn't pull my gaze away. The lids of one eye closed briefly as if winking at me, and then everything vanished, leaving in its place only darkness and a bone-chilling cold. Total sensory deprivation. It was such a shock each time it happened, it would wake me up."

"He couldn't mean …" Margatta began, turning to the other Dragonriders.

"Sure he could!" G'dened finished. "It fits with everything else."

All the Dragonriders were exchanging knowing glances arousing my curiosity.

"The most recent dream, the one I had as I was approaching the Rukbat system, was the first I tried to take control of, to change. I'd been rescued, and, knowing what was coming next, I steeled myself against the sensory deprivation to see how long I could endure it. On cue, my golden rescuer and I winked out of existence, and, once again, there was no sensation, no sight, no sound. I couldn't even feel the hands I knew held me firmly around the waist and legs. Time seemed to go on forever, and just when I thought I would scream in panic, we burst back out into the warm, sun-filled skies!"

"He is talking about _between_!" Lessa exclaimed, rising to her feet.

" _Between_?" I queried, looking about, confused.

"Dragons have the ability to teleport from one place to another, John," F'lar explained. "When we do, we enter a place just as you described, totally black without any sensation except for a biting cold. We call it _between_. The time spent _between_ depends on how far we teleport, usually no longer than about eight seconds."

My mind was awhirl, dizzy with the effort to comprehend all that I was hearing. I shook my head trying to clear the confusion.

"In your dream, John, what happened after you came out of _between_?" Cosira inquired, placing a hand on my knee to get my attention.

"Huh? Oh."

Uncertain how the dragonriders would react to the cryptic words of my dreamworld gold, I hedged the story a bit.

"Well, we flew on together for a bit longer, then my golden rescuer backwinged to a landing and set me gently back on my feet," I told her, deliberately avoiding the part about the dragon speaking to my mind. "Before I could stop her, she was airborne again and out of sight _between_."

"Did the dragon have a rider?" G'dened inquired.

"No. But, shortly after she disappeared, great shadows fell across the ground around me, and I cringed, thinking it might be Thread. But, as I looked skyward, the air was fairly bursting with dragons of all colors, and there were riders on their backs. They were waving and calling to me, urging me to come to them, to join them, to unite with them!"

"Then what happened?" K'van asked, intrigued by my story.

"The entire flight vanished!" I sighed, looking about at my audience. "That's when the meteor shower woke me just before I reached the Rukbat system."

Bolter snorted from atop Ryeena's shoulder, blinking his eyes and chirping as if to say, 'That's it?!' I chuckled softly as I reached over to scratch his eye ridges. He sounded disappointed.

"All of you have never known a time without dragons," I said, Bolter sighing contentedly as I continued to scratch, "even their smaller cousins. You grew up with them, fed them, slept with them; yes, even loved them."

"Before today, Weyrleader, dragons for me existed only on the pages of fairy tale stories or in books on ancient Earth mythology," I told F'lar as I gently squeezed Ryeena's hand. "Bolter was surprise enough when I first met him. Try to imagine my reaction when I learned those mythical creatures were so immensely and immediately real!"

Again, light in the room dimmed, this time it was a golden dragon who peered through the open window.

 _I do sense it_ , she rumbled, the timbre of her voice a bit higher than F'lar's bronze. _You were right, Mnementh_.

"Ramoth!" Lessa cursed, but in a playful tone as she crossed to the window. "Honestly, the two of you …"

 _Spirits of my ancestors_ , I silently exclaimed, blinking my eyes as I ruthlessly suppressed my emotions lest they give me away, _it's not just one dragon that I can hear!_

 _He is of the Blood!_ whistled Ramoth as she turned first one eye then the other to look in the room.

Schooling my features, I turned a puzzled expression to the Weyrwoman as she looked back at me.

"Seems Mnementh isn't the only one who finds you interesting, John," Lessa commented, eyeing me closely.

 _The power is strong! We both feel it!_ Ramoth rumbled, her eyes shading to red, the speed of their whirling taking on an excited pace. _The others do, too!_

Lessa's scrutiny intensified, but I kept my expression neutral, revealing nothing of what I was able to hear. She seemed about to say something, but, at the last minute, changed her mind.

"Enough for now, my heart," said Lessa, lovingly stroking the muzzle of her dragon. "Go on, now. Move yourself. You're blocking our light."

 _Can't I watch?_ Ramoth trilled wistfully, cocking her head to look across the room at me.

Seized by a sudden streak of recklessness, I grabbed one of the pillows behind me.

"Weyrwoman, …" I addressed her, holding the pillow suggestively.

Ryeena gasped, desperately seizing my arm, but Lessa burst out laughing.

"Better move it, love, or John's liable to let fly another of his pillows!" she cried, howling with glee. "Just ask Mnementh about his deadly accuracy!"

The other dragonriders picked up on Lessa's mirth; Sebell, Menolly, Silvina, and Oldive joining them. I even caught Ryeena in a giggle. Ramoth merely snorted at such folly, but she did move off away from the window.

"You weave an intriguing story, John," F'lar said, "as good as any Harper tale."

"There are times, Weyrleader," I told him, "when fact does occasionally prove stranger than fiction."

"Agreed. And yet, the conclusion is inescapable. Some instinct seems to have guided you here, bringing you across space to the one place left in the universe where Admiral Benden and the other colonists are still honored in memory."

"How do you think your revered ancestors would regard their descendants today, Weyrleader?" I asked.

"We can only hope they would be proud of us," he replied, nodding as he smiled, "of all of us," and this last he said looking straight at me.

"Your continued survival so many thousands of Turns since they first set foot on this world is a grand testament to them and to you. I have no doubt they would indeed be proud of you and all that you've accomplished."

"Any chance you might be related to one of our ancestors, John?" Lessa asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

My jaw fell open, surprise stealing my voice as I stared at her.

"Ramoth says you are of the Blood. I was wondering if you could trace your lineage back to one of them."

I shook my head slowly, dumbstruck with disbelief that I had overlooked something so simple yet profound. "In all that hunting, sifting through clues, and uncovering the facts, I never even considered … Wouldn't that just be the grandest jest of all if I really was a descendant of one of the Ancients?"

"Well, in a sense, we're all related," G'dened commented, looking about the room, "since our ancestors, all of us," and he looked straight at me as he said it, "come from Earth."

Murmurs of assent greeted his statement.

"I never even considered the possibility …" I muttered, Ryeena's gentle hands giving mine a reassuring squeeze.

"Time enough for that, later," F'lar said. "Right now, I'm curious about this song Sebell's raving about. Could you sing it once for us before we go?"

Uncertainty seized me as I glanced about. I felt Ryeena's gentle touch on my hands and turned to find her smiling and nodding encouragement.

"Please?" she begged.

"I would be honored to, Weyrleader," I replied, inclining my head to him.

The performance this time around was different, augmented by three additional musicians: one Master Domick playing flute, a Master Talmor playing second gitar to Menolly's own, and Master Sebell playing harp. The mastery of these four as they tuned their individual instruments quickly became evident, which only heightened my nervousness.

Using crude copies of the score we'd recorded only yesterday, they had taken the song and masterfully adapted it to the four instruments being played, the music blending well with the song, heightening the overall effect to a new level. When the final note faded away, only stunned silence remained.

"By the shards of my dragon's egg!" Lessa whispered, utterly captivated.

"Such beauty!" Talmor added, shaking his head to dispel the enthrallment.

"I'm pleased you all liked it," I said, grinning shyly as I reached up to stroke the neck ridges of Bolter and Rocky perched atop my shoulders. "I'm sure Keymon and his people would be deeply flattered."

"To think this magnificent piece of music comes from a race of biped felines!" Domick remarked, tapping the sheets of music. "What a wondrous creation!"

"It's really tragic Master Robinton didn't live long enough to hear this," Menolly sighed, a single tear sliding down her cheek. "He would have loved it!"

Everyone in the room nodded at Menolly's assessment, and I felt my sorrow over not meeting the man deepen.

"Now, we'd best leave you to rest, John," F'lar said, rising, the others following his example. "When you're fit to travel, you must come visit each of us. I'm sure you'll find an endless audience no matter where you go for the tales of other worlds you have seen."

"With an equally captive audience for that song of yours," Master Domick added, waving the sheets of music around. "Most astonishing!"

"It is my fervent wish, Weyrleader, to one day make a place for myself here on Pern," I told him, idly stroking the neck ridges of Bolter and Rocky, "a place where my talents will do the most good. Until that day comes, with Ryeena's welcome help," and I reached over to give her an appreciative hug, "I hope to learn all I can about this fascinating world, its people … and all the fascinating creatures of Pern!" I laughed, spotting Mnementh and Ramoth crowded together at the window, peering in.

"We'll pass along word to the Weyrs who couldn't attend today to expect your visit, John," said F'lar as we shook hands. "Till then, take care of yourself, and welcome once again to your new home!"

A gentle hug and radiant smile from Ryeena sealed the statement.

"Yes," I sighed, gratefully returning her loving hug with my own. "It does feel like home."

Reaching the courtyard outside, the two Benden leaders waited until the others had departed before pulling Silvina, Menolly, and Sebell aside.

"He's not telling us everything," F'lar commented, gazing up at the open window across the courtyard.

"You caught that, too?" Sebell remarked.

"What do you suppose it could be?" Menolly pondered, idly scratching Beauty's eye ridges which made her croon in sensuous delight.

"Something to do with our dragons," Lessa replied, patting the hide of her beloved queen. "Mnementh and Ramoth both say they felt something special about him. Any ideas?"

"No," sighed F'lar. "We can only hope that one day he'll find the courage to tell us. But now, Masterharpers, I believe you promised food to those who would choose to dine here before returning home!"

"Indeed we did, Dragonrider!" laughed Sebell as he took F'lar by the elbow and guided him toward the dining hall.

While the others continued inside, Silvina paused at the entrance, glancing across at my open window. "Is it possible? Could it be he hears dragons? Like Robinton … and Lessa?"

"Silvina!" boomed Sebell from within.

"Coming!" she answered, hurrying up the last few steps to the dining hall.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Master's Challenge

Chapter 7

 _ **The Master's Challenge**_

NEARLY A WEEK … no, a sevenday, I reminded myself, had passed since that astonishing first meeting with the Dragonriders of Pern, and my strength was slowly returning. By the fifth day, I was taking short walks around the Harper Hall, finally getting to know the place that had been my home for the past month. I would sit in rapt fascination listening to the stories told by apprentice, journeyman, and master alike of the history of Pern, its people, and their way of life.

Occasionally, the masters would invite me to sit and observe their lessons, and I was surprised one afternoon to find myself in a private lesson with Master Shonagar, the voice instructor. A rotund barrel of a man, he'd heard the apprentices' tales about 'Keymon's Song' and imperiously demanded that I sing it so that he could see for himself "if the half-truths those young whelps spun were true."

Menolly graciously joined us, and, for the sixth time in as many days, with Ryeena sitting quietly to one side, the music of Pun Ch'lar lilted once more through the Harper Hall, Bolter and Rocky joining their voices to mine; Lazybones, on cue, adding his own to the whole. Such a long pause followed the end of the song that I began to worry that Master Shonagar had found some fault with it.

"So, they were telling the truth," he finally rumbled from the other side of the table.

"You like the song, Master Shonagar?" Ryeena shyly inquired.

"It is undeniably a marvelous creation," he answered, his gaze fixed on me, "but your vocal expression was atrocious!"

A solid wallop of his massive fist on the tabletop punctuated his assessment.

"But, John's a good singer!" Ryeena objected, leaping to her feet in my defense, anger overcoming shyness.

"Bah!" Shonagar snorted, waving her protest aside.

"I'm afraid I must agree with Ryeena, Shonagar," Menolly injected, setting her gitar aside. "While John's freely admitted to no formal voice instruction, he sings from the heart, putting himself into the music. I think all he needs is some polishing."

"How would you improve it?" I asked, facing Master Shonagar.

"What?" he stammered, eyebrows rising in surprise.

"You're the vocal master here," I remarked. "What would you do to make it better?"

"Humph!" he snorted. "Get someone else to sing it."

I didn't consider myself a prideful person. Still, I was surprised when a moment of anger flickered across my consciousness. That quickly yielded to bewilderment as Shonagar's studio echoed with hisses of displeasure from Bolter and Rocky.

"So, the two of you take offense to that, do you?" Shonagar demanded.

"That wasn't from me, Shonagar," Menolly confessed, perplexed as she stared at Rocky.

"Bolter, behave!" hissed Ryeena as if keeping her voice low would help her escape notice.

"If the two of you were not the cause, then who …"

Three pairs of eyes fixed on me, abruptly drawing the same conclusion.

"You!?" Shonagar exclaimed, a meaty finger pointing my way. "But they don't look to you!"

"They do seem able to sense my inner thoughts, though," I finally said, unnerved by the experience. Surprise having dissipated my anger, I burst out laughing. "Can't say I've heard a more blunt assessment of my vocal abilities, Master Shonagar! But your suggestion is as impractical as it is unfeasible."

"Why?" he demanded, punctuating his request with another thump of his massive fist.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked, leaning on the table in front of him. "Who else on Pern can speak the Kendite language?"

Shonagar merely snorted.

"Would you teach me what you know?"

"Why?" he inquired, leaning forward.

"That I may do honor to those who shared their precious gift of music with me."

Snorting, Shonagar scrutinized me long and hard. "You're too old."

"Too old?!" I exclaimed, rocking back on my heels. "No," and I leaned across the table to look him square in the face, "I think the Master is too old, vaunted skill giving way to posturing and bluster!"

"John, that's enough!" Menolly ordered, a restraining hand on my arm.

"Not hardly, Masterharper," I retorted, shaking free of her grasp. "I know my singing's not all it could be, but when I ask for your help, all I get is abuse and insults. I think the great Shonagar is afraid of me!"

"Afraid?!" he spluttered, incredulous.

"YES!" I roared, my fist coming down hard enough on the table to throw some of the sand onto his lap. "I've seen how the apprentices around here behave in the presence of the masters. But I'm no apprentice. If you're as good as they say, then I'll do my utmost to learn what you have to teach. But if that's too much of a challenge for you …", and I let the sentence trail off.

"If I'm as good?!" Shonagar spluttered, red-faced. "Too much of a challenge?! You dare … Why, I ought to … I … well, now!"

Still red in the face, Shonagar was smiling. We both were.

"Seems he does more than sing from the heart, Menolly," Shonagar chuckled. "In all my Turns as Master of voice instruction in this hallowed Harper Hall, no apprentice has dared to speak to me in such a fashion. I salute your courage, and … I accept your challenge. But, know this," a fat forefinger pointing directly at me, "if I have reason to believe that you are giving me anything less than your utmost, I will dismiss you on the spot!"

"Agreed!" I said, offering him my hand to seal the pact.

For the next three hours, Master Shonagar led me through one intensive, exhausting breathing exercise after another; at his direction, singing single notes or scales of five notes. The fourth and final hour we spent going over 'Keymon's Song' verse by verse, examining it, analyzing its musical and vocal content, fine-tuning my presentation. When we were finished, Master Shonagar looking on, I sang the song through once again, utilizing every technique he'd shown me. The end result, to say the least, was staggering.

Word of our impromptu vocal session filtered with astonishing swiftness throughout the Harper Hall, and by the time Master Shonagar had judged me ready to sing, a capacity crowd had gathered in his study with more in attendance in the hall beyond. Domick had assembled his quartet of musicians to play accompaniment, and another harper named Brudegan had gathered a sizeable choir of apprentices and journeymen to, as he put it, "provide a modicum of vocal support."

"Now, oldest of my students," said Master Shonagar, his one eyebrow raised in amused delight, "which of us faces the greatest challenge?"

"We don't understand the words, John," Brudegan explained, "so I hope you'll correct our pronunciation if we err. In either case, we'll do our best to honor the memory of your friend." And, with a bow, "When you're ready …"

I gulped nervously, searching the faces in the room about me. These were the finest musicians and vocal talents on Pern, gathered together to perform a song brought to them across endless miles of space …

"Of course, if you find the challenge too great …"

Shonagar's taunt stung my pride awake. "If you would be so kind, Master Domick …"

Tapping the beat with his foot, the quartet began playing the lead-in measure. Standing straight, shoulders back, breathing from the diaphragm as Master Shonagar had instructed, at the appropriate point, I opened my mouth and began to sing.

The lilting strains of 'Keymon's Song' filled the crowded study, Brudegan's choir providing inspired counterpoint to my singing, Menolly's fair crooning along with us. To our mutual astonishment, we soon discovered her entire fair had joined us in the caroling, the original five singing along with me, the other four adding their voices to the choir, and Lazybones, as had now become customary, joined us for the last verse. Even Kimi, perched atop Sebell's shoulder, was singing along!

A penetrating silence greeted the end of the song, no one moving for fear of breaking the spell the song had spun. Even the fire lizards seemed mesmerized.

"Better," Master Shonagar said, slapping the tabletop with his hand, freeing the room from the thrall of the performance. "Your singing still needs improvement, John, but it is better."

I barely heard him over the roaring in my ears. Stars winked in and out of my vision with increasing frequency and my knees felt as if they'd turned to rubber.

"Thank you, Master Shonagar, I …"

"John?"

Hearing my name, I opened my eyes, instantly disgusted with myself for having overslept. Had it all been just a dream? Above me, a fair of fire lizards peered down from the headboard, their eyes yellow with anxiety.

"What …"

"You passed out in my study," a familiar voice replied. "Most distressing." Master Shonagar stepped over to the side of the bed, a curiously out-of-place worried look on his face. "You should have said something."

Too proud to complain, determined to prove myself to him, I had gone through with the session, badly overtaxing my recovering strength. I had crumpled to a heap on the floor before anyone realized something was wrong.

"I promised you my utmost, Master Shonagar," I told him. "And my word is my bond."

"Know this, John of Earth," he said, waggling a forefinger at me, "wise is he who recognizes his limitations." In a more benevolent tone, he added, "Your singing shows some _marginal_ improvements, considering this was your first formal period of instruction. But I will not have you overextending yourself so the next time. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, Master," I said, nodding as I smiled.

"Well, then, all this has wearied me beyond belief! If you will all excuse me." With a shambling gait, Master Shonagar slowly quit the room.

"You!" Ryeena exclaimed, reaching over to slap me on the arm. "I ought to feed you to the wherries for that stunt! Why didn't you tell us you were so tired? I nearly went _between_ you scared me so!"

"Did you hear him, Ryeena?" I pondered, looking at her worry-lined face.

"Who?"

"Master Shonagar. He said 'next time'. He couldn't possibly want me to come back, could he?"

"When you fainted in his study, John," said Menolly as she came over, "Shonagar was the first to his feet to come to your aid."

I stared at her, mouth agape, my mind reeling with images of the massive form of Master Shonagar leaping up from its place of rest.

"He never said so directly, but his haste in reaching you spoke eloquently enough on its own. 'Keymon's Song' had already won him over, but he was just as impressed by your determination." Then, cocking her head to one side, Menolly added, "You know, your singing has improved," and her fair chirruped happily in agreement from the headboard above me, "but one more outburst like that against Shonagar, and I'll personally scratch your eyes out!"

A collective squawk of astonishment burst from the fire lizards, and I recoiled in surprise, stung by her words, biting my lower lip, eyes downcast, thoroughly rebuked.

"I'm sorry," I meekly replied.

"This time, be smart enough to recover _all_ your strength," Menolly said as she turned to leave. "Then, maybe you can do justice to what Master Shonagar was gracious enough to teach you." Her fair swirling out the open window, Menolly paused in the doorway and added, "Just don't wait too long before you go see him again. Alright?"

With a smile and a wink, she was gone.

I sat for a long time, staring down at my hands, kneading my fingers together.

"John?" It was Ryeena, her voice full of concern as she covered my hands with her own.

"There is still so much I need to learn," I muttered, shaking my head. "So very much …"

"I'm here, John."

I looked up into her smiling face. Bolter, still ensconced on my shoulder, nuzzled my cheek reassuringly. Yes, she was here, they were here – my friends – and I smiled, squeezing her hands in heartfelt gratitude. Yes, I still had a lot to learn, but at least I had friends around to keep me company!


	8. Chapter 8 - Friends

Chapter 8

 _ **Friends**_

Heeding everyone's advice, I did take it a bit easier to give my strength time to fully recover, using my short walks around the Harper Hall to get some exercise.

One morning as I was out in the courtyard limbering up my long-unused muscles, stiff from being bedridden so long, I made an astonishing and terrifying discovery.

 _No Thread today_.

The voice was so unexpected and sounded so close, it made me jump. Glancing about, I searched for the source. Except for myself, the courtyard was deserted. How strange!

 _Must be hearing things,_ I reasoned, shaking my head before returning to my exercises.

 _Good. I can bask in the sun there._

Again, that mysterious voice, penetrating and clear. Yet still no one materialized to claim it. With a start, eyes flying wide, it suddenly dawned on me that there'd been no sound to accompany the words I'd heard … just like that first unsettling meeting with the Dragonriders!

Instinctively, my eyes were drawn upwards to the crowning fire-heights above Fort Hold. There, perched along the rim was the watch dragon – a magnificent blue, his wings spread wide to catch a slight breeze blowing up from the south. Sitting astride the great beast was his lifemate and rider, watchfully alert, scanning the skies for any telltale sign of Thread. With a graceful flick of his pinions, the blue dragon settled his wings to his back and the pair resumed their statue-like pose of alertness.

I gulped, a bit shaken by this newly manifested ability of mine. And yet, even as my heart slowed its frantic beating, I found myself wondering… was the link two-way? If I can hear them, could they, in turn, hear me?

 _Do you really want to know?_ a tiny voice inside me wondered.

Butterflies churned furiously in my stomach as I gazed up at the watch pair. I realized there would be no peace of mind or spirit until I answered that question, one way or the other. Drawing a long, slow breath to ease my nervousness, I tentatively opened my mind to the link.

 _Hello?_

The response was immediate, staggering in intensity. From high atop the fire-heights came a challenging bugle from the watch dragon, words thundering just as loudly inside my head.

 _I am Serith! Who calls?_

Reeling under the mental onslaught, I stumbled, reaching out blindly to steady myself, but with no support nearby, I collapsed to my knees instead.

 _Who calls?_

Bits of memories, flashes from my Academy days, came back to me, and with some effort, the thundering words slowly became tolerable.

 _Someone called, lifemate._

Dragon and rider were communing. Stealing a glance up at the fire-heights, I could see the blue back on his haunches, wings spread, head swiveling about on his long graceful neck as he tried to locate the source of the voice.

 _Who calls?_ he asked again.

 _A friend,_ I answered, struggling back to my feet. _Just a friend._

 _Friend, where are you?_ the dragon inquired, his tone curious now, no longer challenging.

Inquisitive faces were beginning to appear in the windows of the Harper Hall and along the face of Fort Hold, all intent on discovering the cause of the commotion. Slowly, casually, I made my way back toward the entrance to the Harper Hall. I felt terribly conspicuous out in the open.

 _Friend?_

Soon, the curious began spilling out into the courtyard, scanning the skies for whatever was alarming the watch dragon.

"John!" Master Sebell was hurrying down the Hall steps towards me. "What's going on? Why's the watch dragon carrying on? Is Thread falling out of phase?"

I shrugged, schooling my features into a mask of confusion. "Better ask him," I replied, thumbing up toward the fire-heights as I passed the Masterharper on the stairs.

It seemed to take forever to reach my room at the unhurried pace I held myself to. I didn't want to attract any undue attention. The moment the door closed behind me, though, I slid to the floor, my back against the door, my hands violently trembling, cold sweat trickling down my back.

"Why am I so frightened?" I asked myself, glancing down at my quivering hands.

After the bitter disappointment I'd felt following the psionics testing at the Academy, you'd think I'd be overjoyed to discover that they'd been wrong!

"Sometimes, a psi-gifted person will experience an intense episode of fear, an almost phobic reaction, following the first few psionic contacts." These were the words of one of my instructors recalled from my Academy days. "Telepathic communion can be a very intimate experience, requiring a great deal of trust and the lowering of many personal barriers. Opening one's self to another mind can be very unsettling. Some never overcome their fear of contact."

Was that why I was shaking so? Was I afraid to open myself on such a personal level to another mind?

 _He doesn't answer anymore, lifemate._

The blue! Moving to the window, I could see the watch pair still atop the Fort Hold fire-heights. The dragon's eyes were yellow, a hint of sadness in his tone.

 _He's gone._

 _Serith?_

 _Friend?_ The rekindled excitement was unmistakable in the dragon's thoughts.

 _Yes._

 _Why did you go away?_

 _I was frightened. I have never done this before._

 _Friend, who are you? My rider wants to know._

I grinned in spite of myself. Serith's rider wasn't the only one curious about me.

 _I must go now, but we'll talk again one day._

 _No, wait!_

 _Farewell for now, my friend._

Pulling the shutters closed, I broke the link and then flopped down on the bed. Breathing deeply to slow my fluttering heart, I took a moment to contemplate the magnitude of what I had just done.

The link was, indeed, two-way!

My mind roiled with confusion. How could this have happened? Did it have something to do with the crash? But, if that was true, how did I explain the dreams, as Weyrwoman Lessa had said, '... premonitions of things I would encounter on Pern.'

One real question remained. What was I going to do about my new talent? Was there someone I could trust with the secret? Clearly, not everyone on Pern could hear dragons. In fact, only dragonriders seemed to possess that peculiar talent. And a non-rider possessed of such a gift could trigger jealousy in others not so fortunate. Not an enviable position to be in as my first-contactor missions time and again had proven.

Then, another possibility presented itself. Ryeena had told me that dragonrider candidates were selected from the general populous, Holds and Crafthalls alike, as well as from the Weyrs, on what they called a Search. Was it possible that an individual's higher psionic rating – telepathy, empathy, or both – made them suitable to be dragonriders? It was clear telepathy was what the dragons used to communicate with their riders. But it was just as clear that the riders only seemed able to hear their own particular dragon. If so, why was I different? Or was it just possible that rare individuals amongst the Pernese population could hear other dragons?

I groaned aloud, pressing the soles of my hands against my eyes until I began to see stars. All this contemplation and confusion was making me dizzy! One conclusion, though, was crystal clear and inescapable: by whatever facility – accident or Fate – I could hear dragons, and it appeared that they could hear me. How would the dragonriders react, I wondered, if they knew I could listen in on those private conversations? A shiver of dread ran down my spine as a long buried memory from my Academy days resurfaced. I decided then and there to keep my talent and anything it inadvertently revealed a closely guarded secret. I wouldn't discover until much, much later just how unnecessary my self-imposed restraint would be.

Days passed before the furor that my little test caused had died down. Rumors flew thick and furious through the Harper Hall and Fort Hold, each person harboring their own opinion over what had happened.

"They say T'ledon claims someone other than him spoke to his dragon," Ryeena told me as we were returning from a short walk, Bolter winging along overhead, chittering happily. "A man, or at least they think it was a man. Serith, that's T'ledon's dragon, wasn't sure."

"Can a dragonrider hear another rider's dragon?" I inquired.

"No," Ryeena replied as we started up the stairs into the Hall. "In fact, the only people who can are Weyrwoman Lessa from Benden Weyr and F'nor's weyrmate, Brekke."

"Is it only the women dragonriders, then, who can hear other dragons?"

"Only a rare few have shown such a gift, John."

Ryeena and I both jumped as Silvina quietly materialized at the top of the stairs.

"Weyrwoman Lessa and Brekke, as Ryeena told you, are the only two of the present Pass who we know can speak to all dragons."

"There were others?" I asked.

"Only one," Silvina replied, eyeing me closely. "Weyrwoman Moreta, a distant ancestor."

"The one spoken of in 'The Ballad of Moreta's Ride'?" I queried, looking at Ryeena.

Silvina's right eyebrow arched upward in surprise. "That's right. Did you teach him that one, child?"

"It's one of my favorites, Silvina!" came Ryeena's unabashed reply.

"An inspiring story," I said. "The sacrifice Lady Moreta and Orlith, her dragon, made to save Pern from that pandemic. Such remarkable selflessness!" Looking directly at the Harper Hall headwoman, I asked, "Silvina, has there ever been a man, dragonrider or not, who could speak to all dragons? Or is that a trait possessed solely by the women of Pern?"

A brief moment of pain passed over Silvina's eyes before she answered. "Only one," she sighed, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. "Robinton. We didn't know he could hear dragons until the day he had a heart attack. They kept him from dying," and the tears slowly began to slide down her cheeks, "linking their minds with his, keeping him alive until Oldive and the other healers could stabilize him. They loved Master Robinton."

"Silvina, I'm sorry," I apologized, placing a gentle hand on her forearm.

She smiled, patting my hand as her gaze locked with mine. "You've been asking a lot of questions about dragons and their riders. Do you know who bespoke T'ledon's blue Serith?"

I nearly suffered my own heart attack right then and there. As it was, I couldn't stop the look of terror in my eyes or keep my hand resting on her arm from convulsing in surprise.

"John, what is it?" queried Ryeena, a worried look on her face. "Do you know who it was?"

Averting my gaze, I turned and started up the stairs to my room.

"John?" Ryeena called after me.

I stopped halfway up but didn't turn around. My shoulders sagged and my head drooped forward as I spoke. "I … I'm not sure." That was a lie, but I didn't dare turn around. "Was any real harm done?"

"No," Silvina answered, her voice kind, "not really. But, I'm sure the dragonriders would like to meet whoever it was. Such a gift is exceedingly rare."

"I'm going to lay down for awhile," I said, continuing up the stairs. "I'm not feeling very well."

That last, at least, was the truth. Lying in front of my friends had made me sick with guilt. How would I ever be deserving of their trust after this?

"Silvina?" The puzzled look on Ryeena's face spoke volumes of her confusion.

"Go to him, my dear," Silvina told her, nudging Ryeena toward the steps.

"Do you think he knows who it was?" she asked as Bolter peered out from behind her head, chirping in a puzzled tone.

As Silvina watched my hunched-over form disappear around the corner at the top of the stairs, she answered, "Yes."

"Wish it had been me," Ryeena sighed, a distant look briefly clouding her expression. Bolter lovingly nuzzled his friend's cheek, whiffling sweet-smelling breath in her face. "To be able to speak to a dragon … like Weyrwoman Lessa …"

"Go to him, Ryeena," Silvina told her, turning her gently toward the steps. "John needs his friends now more than ever."

"What's happening to him, Silvina?" Ryeena inquired, glancing up the steps. "Why is he acting like that?"

"John's a stranger to our world, my sweet," was Silvina's reply as she placed a gentle hand on Ryeena's cheek. "Our world, our people, our way of life are unknown to him. Though, with your help, he's already learned a great deal."

Ryeena smiled at the praise she was given.

"But, there is still much he doesn't understand or is willing to accept, yet," Silvina continued, glancing up the stairs. "He's uncertain and, maybe, just a little afraid. We need to let him know we'll be there for him when he needs us, when he's ready to talk about it."

"Oh, I see," Ryeena murmured, sudden realization gleaming in her small eyes. "Guess I'd kind of feel the same way if I was alone on one of those strange worlds John's told me about."

Sensing her unease, Bolter cooed reassuringly, gently head-caressing Ryeena's cheek. She hugged his tiny head to her and smiled.

"I'll never be alone as long as I have you, will I?" Still cradling Bolter's head with her hand, Ryeena glanced first up the stairs then back to Silvina. "Come on, Bolter!"

With a smile on her face and a bounce to her steps, Ryeena sped up the stairs, Bolter winging along overhead.

I was in misery, alone, and certain I had lost what few friends I had. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I looked out across the courtyard of the Harper Hall from the window of my room. How could I have lied so blatantly to my friends? They had shown me nothing but kindness, and this was how I repaid them. I turned from the window and threw myself down on the bed, burying my head in the pillow to hide my shame.

My quiet weeping seemed to go on forever, giving me no surcease from the shame I felt. Head buried in the pillow, my sobs muffled the sounds around me. That's why when something brushed the side of my neck very gently, almost lovingly, I flinched, rolling away from whatever it was.

At first, I couldn't make out what it could be, my vision blurred by a well of tears. But, as I blinked them away, the image slowly resolved itself into a pair of tiny yellow eyes peering anxiously up at me.

"Chirp?" came a plaintive call, feelings of concern accompanying it.

I blinked again, my eyes taking in the rest of the creature whose eyes regarded me. It was a brown fire lizard … Bolter!

"John?"

Startled, my breath caught as I jumped at the sound. Someone else was in the room! The tentative voice had come from over by the door, and as I looked up, Ryeena stepped out into the light.

I lay there, frozen, captured by the worry that radiated from her gentle face and the look of concern in her trusting eyes. I turned away in shame, my eyes downcast, for I felt unworthy of that trust.

"John?" Ryeena's hand came to rest lightly on my shoulder. "John, please talk to me."

What could I say? What words could possibly make up for the trust I had betrayed?

"I talked with Silvina, and I remember those stories you told me about all the worlds you've been to," Ryeena continued when I didn't respond. She sat down beside me on the bed. "I think I'd be pretty scared if I was alone on one of those worlds without any friends." Then, she reached over and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. "But, you're not alone, John. We're here. We're still your friends!"

A lump formed in my throat as I turned slowly to look at her. The worried frown on her face gave way to a smile, and I felt tears forming anew in my eyes. Bolter scurried across her arm to my shoulder and, wrapping his tail gingerly around my neck, began nuzzling my cheek as he crooned softly his reassurance.

I wept. Oh, how I wept as I pulled Ryeena close, hugging her tightly. I didn't know by what powers I'd been blessed with such a friend, but I swore I would never do anything again to put that friendship at risk.

"John?" Ryeena pulled back a bit to search my face. "Do you know who spoke to Serith?"

Gulping, I nodded. She regarded me for a long moment before speaking.

"You must have a reason why you won't tell anyone."

How could I explain to her my reason, about my fear and uncertainty?

"Kind of wish it had been me," she shyly admitted, a distant look clouding her eyes. "Oh, to be able to speak to dragons!" She brushed the dream aside with a wave of her hand. "Well, none of that's really important, John, as long as we're still friends." The pleading look on her face and in her eyes stole my heart away. "We're still friends, aren't we?"

My … friend? I nearly choked on my emotions as tears fell in tiny rivulets down my face, my lips quivering uncontrollably. My jaw worked back and forth as I searched for just the right words to express my boundless joy, but I found it very difficult to speak around sobs and tears.

"Forever … forever and always, Ryeena," I finally managed to whisper as I hugged my precious friend to me, Bolter chittering happily in my ear.

Unobserved and unobtrusive, a smile on her face, Silvina quietly pulled the door to my room closed.

My health was finally on the mend. I felt so good the next day, in fact, that I decided to start taking my breakfasts with the others in the main dining hall. I was made to feel right at home, the apprentices eagerly making room at one of their tables for me. They practically fought over whom I would sit with. They even insisted that I be served first, giving me the best of the food.

Ryeena was there, too, sitting across from me, listening attentively, as every morning I regaled the apprentices with the stories of my travels. She seemed outwardly happy, laughing along with the apprentices when they did. And yet, I sensed a growing sadness within her with each passing day.

My appearance that first morning in the dining hall must have served as a sort of trigger, for I soon found I was being sought out wherever I went. I certainly had no lack of visitors to keep me company. Every day, there seemed to be a new face in my room begging to hear a story from my travels, the beings I'd met, the magnificent sights I'd seen, the music I'd heard, and so on. One of the young apprentices, an eager lad named Jerritt, even stopped in to ask me to teach him the language of the Kendites.

"It's such a beautiful language," he sighed as we were finishing up a session.

"You're a good student, Jerritt," I told him, nodding assurances.

"Jerritt!" The hoarse whisper came from the door, and we looked up to see one of the other apprentices leaning in, waving to him.

"I'd better go, John," he said, rising. "Chores to do. See ya!"

And with that, he dashed out the door on the heels of the other apprentice.

"He's a good kid, Ryeena," I commented. "I like him." No response. "Ryeena?"

She was standing by the window, staring out at the fields beyond the Hall courtyard. Off in the distance, I heard the groan and squeak of several wagons and the unmistakable 'Klop-Klop' of many horses' hooves. No, strike that, many runnerbeasts' hooves. I chuckled to myself, wondering if I would ever grow accustomed to this Pernese diction.

Ryeena shook her head and turned from the window. "I'm sorry, John, did you say something?"

"Jerritt had to leave; chores to do," I told her, thumbing toward the open door.

"Yes," Ryeena sighed, just a hint of sadness in her tone. "There's something I need to do, too. I'll see you, okay?"

"Sure."

As the door was closing behind her, I caught a glimpse of Bolter's tiny head looking back at me, eyes yellow with concern, his expression sad. The next day, I found out why.

Happy voices and delightful aromas roused me from my sleep, and I opened my eyes. I'm not sure why, but for some reason I felt something was terribly wrong. Sitting up in bed, I looked around for the source of my unease but found nothing threatening in the room. Something was out of place, I felt sure of it, but it wasn't until I looked down at my pillow that I made the connection. The warm, spicy-smelling depression that had always marked Bolter's resting place was gone!

I threw back the sleeping furs, stuffed my arms into a robe, and dashed from the room. Down the hall, I stopped and rapped gently on Ryeena's door. No answer. Quietly, I opened the door and peered in. "Ryeena?" I gently called out.

Still no answer. I pushed the door open and entered. The bed showed no signs of having been slept in, and as I glanced about, the place had been swept clear of everything that had marked Ryeena's presence here.

"She's gone, John," Silvina informed me from the door, a tray of food in her hands.

"Gone? Where?"

"Home," she replied, setting the tray on a nearby table. "She left late last night with a caravan heading for the Tillek peninsula."

I gasped. The wagons and runnerbeasts I'd heard!

"But, why would she leave?" I asked. "I thought she was apprenticed here. I don't understand." Then, a knot of worry began to form in my stomach. "She wasn't sent away because of something she did for me, was she?"

"No, John, nothing like that," was Silvina's soothing reply. "She was merely keeping the promise she made."

"Promise?"

"Yes. You see, when you were first brought here, Ryeena insisted on coming along because you had saved her life. But because she was not apprenticed here or a paying student like the others, she promised to stay only until she felt sure you'd be alright. I guess last night she finally felt she could leave."

I sank back on the bed.

"That's why Bolter looked so sad," I muttered. "But why didn't she tell me she was leaving?" I felt sick, deserted. "Why didn't she say goodbye?" Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes.

"I think you know the answer to that," Silvina replied as she sat on the bed beside me.

I nodded, reluctantly. Yes, I did know. I'd grown very fond of my young friend, and if Ryeena felt the same about me, then I, too, would have found it very painful to say goodbye. Simply leaving with no explanation, the hurt would be diminished though not completely. A lone tear slid unnoticed down my cheek.

Sunlight slanting in through the open window cast its warm glow over the wardrobe standing against the far wall. As it did, a faint glimmer of color shone back from behind its nearly closed doors. Crossing the room, I flung the wardrobe open, and there, hanging within, was the beautiful forest green gown Ryeena had worn the day she had introduced me to the Dragonriders.

"She must have overlooked it in her hurry to leave," Silvina commented, fingering the fabric of one of the sleeves.

Silvina was trying to be kind, and I smiled at her, nodding in appreciation. Ryeena had loved that gown. I was betting she had left it behind so it wouldn't serve as a constant reminder of the special friendship we had shared all too briefly.

"Where does she live, Silvina?" I asked, taking the gown out of the wardrobe.

"With her uncle in a small cot near Misty Hold on the Tillek peninsula," she responded, "not far from where you crash-landed. Why?"

"I'm taking this to her," I replied, gently laying the gown out on the bed. "But I'll need directions on how to get there."

"And how will you get there?" Silvina inquired, hands on hips. "Walk?"

"If that's the only way."

"You're serious?!" One look at my face removed any doubts she might have had. "Well, you're not going to go off finding her dressed like that," and she indicated the sleeping robe I had hurriedly thrown on. "Here, take this," and she handed the tray of food to me. "Go clean yourself up and get dressed. When you've finished eating, come find me, and we'll see what can be done to arrange some transportation for you."

Before I could reply, Silvina swept out of the room. I took the tray back to my room, and as I sat there eating, a new fear began to slowly gnaw at me.

I finished the breakfast Silvina had been kind enough to bring then set about getting myself cleaned and dressed. The vigorous way I scrubbed my face did nothing to dispel the fear that was closing an icy fist about my heart, nor, after slipping into some fresh clothing, did the furious brushing I gave my hair. Sighing nervously, I set the innocent brush back on the dresser and set off to find Silvina.

She was busy in the kitchen supervising the labors near one of the great hearths. She looked up from her efforts just as I set the now empty food tray on a table.

"John!" she called out, waving to me.

"The meal was delicious, Silvina," I said when I reached her. "My thanks for bringing it to me."

Somehow sensing my uneasiness, she put a caring hand on my arm. "What is it, John?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing."

Silvina gave me a quick measuring glance, then grabbed my elbow and led me out of the kitchen to one of the small, private studies on the ground floor.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked, closing the door behind us. She looked at me then, my shuffling feet, my nervously kneading hands, and smiled warmly at me. "It's Ryeena, isn't it?"

Why I then and there decided I could trust Silvina I never figured out, but I nonetheless spilled my heart out to her.

"Silvina, I know I said I was going to take Ryeena's gown back to her …"

"And now you've changed your mind?"

"NO!" I exclaimed, then more quietly, "no, it's not that. It's just … well …" Silvina hadn't moved. She merely stood there, calmly serene, waiting for me to continue. "I'm scared, Silvina."

It was a feeling I was unaccustomed to.

"Of what?" Then, one eyebrow rising in suspicion, she added, "Or who?"

"Ryeena," I sighed, shoulders sagging. "Silvina, what if she doesn't want to see me when I get there? What if …"

Silvina's gentle touch on my forearm cut off any further considerations.

"Ryeena loves you very deeply, John," she told me, understanding clear in her eyes. "It goes beyond mere gratitude for your saving her life. She told me she didn't think she'd have the courage to face you in order to say goodbye, that it would be too painful for her."

Ryeena! How could she possibly know how important her trusting friendship had become to me, how incomplete my life felt without her presence nearby.

"It may well be that she won't want to see you when you find her, John," Silvina added, "but you won't know unless you go."

I looked up then into Silvina's smiling face and knowing eyes.

"And she won't know just how much she means to you unless you do," she finished, placing a gentle hand on my arm.

By the stars, was my heart that open and readable?

"Guess I better get going, then," I chuckled.

Wanting to go and actually going I soon discovered were two different things. I needed some kind of transportation to get to Ryeena's home. But as anxious as I was to be on my way, I had to exercise patience, for it took nearly three days of inquiries, and that with Sebell's help, before we finally made arrangements for the use of a runnerbeast from one of the local holders.

"I hope everything goes well for you, John," said Sebell as he handed a pair of saddlebags up to me, one containing my own clothes and Ryeena's preciously wrapped gown, the other, prepared by Silvina's own hands, filled with rations sufficient for the journey.

A sizeable crowd had gathered in the Hall courtyard to see me off, and I felt a tear slide down my cheek as I glanced about.

"With such friends beside me, how can I fail?" I told them, settling the bags in front of me.

"We're going to miss you around here, John," Menolly commented, offering me her hand as her fair of fire lizards swirled and caroled noisily about our heads. "You and all the stories you still have left to tell us. And your music."

A murmur of assent filtered through the crowd, and as I scanned their faces, I spotted Jerritt hovering to one side. I smiled at him and was rewarded with a smile in return.

Feeling a hand on my knee, I turned to see Silvina gesturing for me to lean closer. As I did, speaking quietly so no one else would hear, she whispered, "When you're ready to tell someone, John, go see F'lar and Lessa. They'll understand."

She knew about my gift and had said nothing to anyone!

"I will, Silvina, I promise," I told her. "And, thank you!"

"Be sure to give Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra our regards when you see them, John," Silvina spoke in a more normal tone. "We sent word along for them to expect you."

The lord and lady of Ruatha Hold. Even the name sounded imposing, important. Ruatha. While waiting for the arrival of my runnerbeast, Sebell, Menolly, Silvina, and I had spent the previous night mapping out my route of travel. Different than the one taken by Ryeena's caravan, out of necessity because of impending Threadfalls, Ruatha Hold was to be my first stopover. From there, I would be heading northwest past Ice Lake, zig-zagging through several mountain passes before reaching the Tillek peninsula, then westward finally to Misty Hold and the cot of Ryeena's uncle. Plenty of stopover points had been mapped out along the way, and I was assured I'd have no trouble finding a place to spend the night at any of them.

"I will, Silvina," I replied, sitting up in the saddle. "And, thank you … for everything."

I took one final look about the Hall, my home for what seemed a lifetime, and my breath caught as I spotted Master Shonagar standing in one of the windows of the Hall.

"The way Fate has been guiding my steps, everyone," I said, smiling as I nodded to Master Shonagar, "I shouldn't be surprised to find our paths crossing again. Farewell, for now!"

With a flick of the reins, the runnerbeast headed for the courtyard gate. Once outside, I urged him on to a faster pace, and we galloped away, the cheers from the Harper Hall escorting us as far as sound would carry, Menolly's fair and a few wild fire lizards escorting us a good deal farther.


	9. Chapter 9 - To The Harper

Chapter 9

 _ **To The Harper**_

BREATHTAKING AND BEAUTIFUL LANDSCAPE SPREAD OUT BEFORE ME. No matter where I looked, there was something wondrously strange and delightfully new to see, from the cloud-filled blue-green sky to the wide range of flora that abounded on this world. Even the curious and strange insect and animal life! But what I found the most refreshing was the quality of the air – pure, crystal-clear, free of pollutants – it was quite heady just to draw a deep breath and savor the smells and aromas adrift on the breezes. No wonder the Pernese people fought so doggedly to protect their world – my world, too, I realized – from the ravages of Thread. Yes, I, too, would fight to protect it, I decided. To protect my new home.

Just as the sun was setting on the first day of my journey to Ryeena's home, the imposing cliffside dwelling that was Ruatha Hold loomed into view, long shadows from the fire-heights casting out across the river field and racing flats that the place was renowned for. Curious but friendly faces began to appear along the roadside, giving evidence that word of my arrival had indeed been sent on ahead. Holders and craftsmen, young and old alike, eager to catch a glimpse of the star voyager from Earth. It was such a moving gesture, I decided to dismount a kilometer or so from the hold and walk among the people.

Everyone I met was outgoing and pleasantly friendly, a refreshing change from some of the stifling, regimented, and too often emotionless worlds of the FSP. Timid young children gawked at me from behind their parents, whispering excitedly, pulling at the hems of their mother's or father's clothes.

One little girl caught my eye. Standing in front of her mother, a bouquet of flowers in her hands, for an instant she started to raise the flowers as if to offer them to me but then turned shy, hugging her mother's leg.

"Excuse me, young miss," I quietly spoke as I slowly knelt in front of her. "Those are lovely flowers. May I see them?"

The little girl looked up at her mother.

"Go on, Doreen," the woman quietly urged her child.

"Doreen, that's a lovely name," I said, grinning warmly. "Well, Doreen, my name is John." I held my hand out to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you," she demurely whispered, briefly shaking my hand. Then, remembering what she was carrying, she slowly, shyly held the flowers out to me.

"For me?" I asked, smiling as I took them from her. "Doreen, they're lovely! Mmm!" I hummed, sampling their fragrance. "They smell wonderful! Thank you!"

"She begged me to let her pick them when she heard you were coming, John," the woman said, smiling proudly at her daughter.

"Then my thanks to you as well, dear lady, for the gift," I replied, bowing to her. "Would you and your daughter honor me by walking with me to the gates of Ruatha Hold?"

"Could we?" Doreen asked, innocent hope shining from her face.

"The honor is ours, star voyager," the woman replied, linking her arm with mine.

Lana, Doreen's mother, was very pleasant company on the walk, telling me all about Ruatha Hold and its people. Doreen did very little walking. Shortly after we started out, I hefted her over my head, her legs straddling my neck, so that she could ride on my shoulders. Her squeal of delight let me know she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

By the time our little party turned onto the causeway road leading up to the gates of Ruatha Hold, a veritable parade had formed around and behind us. At our approach, the gates swung inward and a stately woman wearing a flowing red dress emerged. I lowered Doreen back to the ground just as two fire lizards, a bronze and a brown, arrowed out through the gates, becoming a blur of movement about my head.

"Hold your arm like this, Doreen," I quietly told her, my own held up in front of me.

She did as I asked. Seconds later, she squealed with delight as the brown fire lizard landed on her upheld arm just as the bronze backwinged to mine.

"You certainly have a way with fire lizards, stranger," the woman remarked as she came up.

"Something I learned from my travels, dear lady," I replied. "Doesn't matter the species, treat any intelligent creature with respect, and they'll respond in kind. You would be Lady Sharra?"

"And you have to be John!" the woman laughed as the two fire lizards, recognizing the compliment I'd paid to them, chirruped smugly.

"The Masters of the Harper Hall send you their warmest greetings," I said, bowing gracefully to her, being careful not to unseat the bronze perched on my forearm. "Please allow me to add my own to theirs."

"My husband, Lord Jaxom, is away from the Hold at the moment, but you are most welcome here, John," Sharra replied. "Please come in."

"You are too kind, my lady," I said, bowing again. As I straightened, I noticed a curious expression on her face. "Is something wrong?"

"You remind me of a dear friend," Sharra answered, a brief tear glistening in her eye, "gone from us now these many Turns."

"Master Robinton," I concluded.

It could be no other. I could see it on her face and in her eyes. The love and respect with which she held Robinton's memory fairly shone from this lady holder.

"Everywhere I turn, Lady Sharra, I find him lovingly preserved in the memories of the people whose lives he touched. And with each new encounter, my sorrow over not having met the man deepens. He must have been an extraordinarily remarkable man to have touched so many lives."

"And I'm sure were he here, John, he would be warmed by your words," Sharra told me, a gentle hand on my arm. Then, smiling, she added, "And insatiably curious about you and all your travels!" Looking past my shoulder at the crowd gathered beyond, she laughed, saying, "Though I see he would've had to fight his way through the crowds to get close enough to hear! Please, come inside, John, and rest from your journeys."

"But …" Doreen's plea and the worry on her face were unmistakable. She didn't want this special moment to end.

"Brand!" Sharra called back over her shoulder. A man appeared at the gate. "It's just about feeding time for Meer and Talla. Would you take Doreen and her mother inside so that they can feed the fire lizards?"

"Really?" Lana's daughter gasped.

"If it's alright with your mother."

Lana nodded, smiling as I transferred the bronze I held to Doreen's shoulder.

"This way," Brand said, gesturing for them to follow.

With a final wave to the crowds, I turned and followed Sharra through the gates into the outer courtyard of Ruatha Hold.

As I was removing the saddlebags from my mount, one of the Hold's servants came over to relieve me of the runnerbeast's reins, promising effusively to take extra special care of him. Kismet, the name I'd given to the runnerbeast, eagerly followed the servant, perhaps anticipating the promised treatment. Unencumbered at last, I took a long, slow look about me.

"It is just as I imagined it would be, Lady Sharra," I said as my gaze returned to her. "My thanks for allowing me to spend the night."

"I confess, John, I'm more than a little excited to hear about your travels," she confided. "We've heard only bits and pieces of rumors that have trickled out of the Harper Hall."

"Then I will be more than happy to indulge your curiosity, Lady Sharra," I told her, bowing elaborately. "Fair payment in return for lodging in your home."

"And this song we've heard so much about … what do you call it?"

"It's being called 'Keymon's Song' by the people of Pern," I said, and with a smile, "though my friend would blush a shocking crimson beneath his fur to learn he has been so honored."

"Is it as beautiful as we've heard?"

"As a dream!" I sighed, watching Brand lead Lana and her daughter into the Hold.

 _Sharra says our special guest has arrived._ The soundless voice came to me as if from a distance. A dragon? And this one seemed to know the Lady Holder! _We come, Sharra._

"John?"

"My apologies, Lady Sharra," I said. "I didn't mean to stare."

"Well, you won't have long to wait," she informed me. "Jaxom and Ruth should be arriving presently."

"Ruth?"

As if that single word had been a key, I felt a disturbance in the air above me and looked up just in time to see a dragon and its rider emerge from _between_ in the skies above Ruatha. At first, I thought it was a trick of the light from the setting sun as I watched the dragon spiral down to land in the open portion of the courtyard. The moment it backwinged to a gentle landing and its rider dismounted, I could see there were a few things different about this particular dragon. It was considerably smaller than the ones I'd met before, and this one's hide appeared as white as new-fallen snow!

With a warm smile and a lightness of step, Sharra hurried into the rider's arms, the love and tenderness of their embrace leaving no doubt who he was.

"John," Sharra spoke as the couple approached, arm in arm, "allow me to present my husband, Lord Jaxom of Ruatha!"

"You're a dragonrider!" I exclaimed as we shook hands.

"That's right," Jaxom replied, amused by my reaction.

"The Masters at the Harper Hall led me to believe that the Holds, Halls, and Weyrs were autonomous entities," I said, a puzzled frown on my face. "How is it you …"

"It's something of a long story," Jaxom began. "You see, …"

But the forthcoming explanation would have to wait. Ruth forced his way between Jaxom and Sharra, nearly trampling them in his haste as he charged straight at me!

Startled by his sudden approach – or was it an attack? – I backed away as fast as I could, slamming hard into a stone wall behind me. My head snapped back, striking the stone, the impact knocking the wind from me. Stars danced before my eyes, and it was a struggle to get my lungs working again. I could feel the air pressing in heavily around me, and when my vision finally cleared, only a scant few centimeters separated me from one of Ruth's piercingly red, dizzily whirling eyes. He was scrutinizing me in minute detail, whiffling his excitement while the remaining bulk of his snow-white body obscured the rest of my vision.

"Ruth, what's gotten into you?" Jaxom demanded, pushing his way around his dragon to reach my side. "John's our guest!"

 _He's Ruathan!_ Ruth excitedly declared, looking me up and down. _The Blood sings in him. I can feel the power within!_

 _Spirits of my ancestors!_ I silently exclaimed, frozen against the cold stone wall, eyes wide, my breathing stilled.

Powerful images of Mnementh and Ramoth flashed across my mind's eye. Try as I might, I couldn't stop my body from trembling.

"Enough, Ruth!" Jaxom ordered, struggling to push his friend away from me.

"Are you alright, John?" Sharra asked, a comforting hand on my shoulder as she squeezed past the slowly retreating Ruth.

"I think so," I weakly replied, rubbing my aching head. "What was that all about?"

"I wish I knew!" Sharra sighed as we watched Jaxom struggling to calm his friend. "Ruth's never done that before. Jaxom?"

"I'm not sure," he shrugged, Ruth peering intently at me over Jaxom's shoulder. "I've only seen Search dragons behave like that …"

Jaxom's voice trailed off into silence even as he turned wide astonished eyes my way. Sharra's audible gasp beside me told me she'd come to the same conclusion.

"When they'd found a likely Hatching candidate!" Sharra exclaimed, her face abeam with excitement. "Someone with the potential to become a dragonrider! Oh, sweetheart, you don't suppose …"

Three pairs of eyes, sparkling with excited anticipation, regarded me intently. If not for the unyielding stone of the wall behind me, I'd've fled such intense scrutiny.

"Ruth said that you were Ruathan, that the Blood was strong in you," Jaxom commented, running a thoughtful finger along his chin. "I've never seen him react so strongly to anyone's presence before. Is it possible? Could we be related, somehow?"

"I … I don't know, Lord Jaxom, truly," I answered, gulping loudly.

My heart fluttered wildly beneath my ribs as I slowly moved over to stand near Ruth. Cautiously, Jaxom moved aside as his dragon came forward. Driven by his insatiable curiosity, the white dragon lowered his head to regard me once again, and as he did, I hesitantly reached one trembling hand up to scratch just behind his eye ridges. Ruth snorted in surprise, his multi-faceted eyes shading from an excited red to an uncertain orange color. Somehow I'd found his favorite spot, usually known only to dragons and their riders. But as I continued to scratch, Ruth began to rumble contentedly, the inner lids languidly sliding closed over eyes shading to a more relaxed blue-green color.

"Whew!" I sighed, a bit more forcefully than I'd intended, making Jaxom and Sharra laugh.

"How did you know?" Sharra pondered, looking from Ruth to me.

"An educated guess," I replied, drawing a few breaths to steady my pounding heart. "Fire lizards enjoy having their eye ridges scratched, and my friend, Ryeena, told me that dragons had been created from their smaller cousins. I was hoping what worked for one would work for the other."

"John, …" Jaxom began, but I politely waved his apology aside.

"No need, Lord Jaxom," I told him, smiling my assurance. Then, with a nervous laugh, I added, "Truth is, this wasn't the first time."

"Really?" Sharra sounded genuinely surprised. "Oh, you must tell us all about it!" she insisted, taking me by the elbow and guiding me into the Hold proper.

Which I did, in exacting detail, over the sumptuous evening meal that had been prepared in my honor.

"Mnementh _and_ Ramoth, huh?" Jaxom mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "They generally aren't considered to be Search dragons. Interesting. And Ruth felt it, too!"

"John, is there any chance you may be related to the Ruathan bloodline somehow?" Sharra inquired.

"Weyrwoman Lessa asked almost the exact same question, Lady Sharra," I chuckled, recalling. "But, it was Weyrleader G'dened who correctly pointed out that we're all descendants of people from Earth." A disappointed sigh escaped my lips as I contemplated the depths of my wineglass. "I wish I could tell you for certain, Lady Sharra, but without an accurate tracing of my family's genealogy, there's just no way of telling."

Once again, I silently chastised myself for overlooking something that should have been so obvious.

"I'll send word along to Benden in the morning, John," Jaxom said, "letting them know what happened here."

I nearly choked on my heart as it leaped into my throat.

"Really, Lord Jaxom, I don't want to be a bother," I told him, coughing once. Attracting attention to myself was definitely _not_ on my list of priorities.

"No bother at all, John," Jaxom assured me. "In fact, I may just deliver the message myself."

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"It'll give me an excuse to drop in on F'lar and Lessa. And who knows, they may even want you there for the next Hatching! If there's anything to what Mnementh, Ramoth, and Ruth are saying, you could end up being the oldest candidate ever to Impress a dragon!"

"Lord Jaxom, there's still so much of Pern I haven't seen yet," I told him, putting as much conviction as I could in my voice, "many different occupations yet to explore before I decide where I might fit in." Nervously, I averted my gaze, staring at my hands folded in my lap. "But, please do what you feel is best."

 _Which, stars willing,_ I silently hoped, _is nothing._

"That's tomorrow's worry, John," Sharra said, smiling as she laid a comforting hand on my arm.

"Finder, bring that gitar of yours over here!" she called out, waving to the Hold's harper. "It's time we heard for ourselves this wondrous song from the stars!"

"But, Lady Sharra," Finder protested as he drew up a stool, "how can I possibly accompany him? I've not heard the song yet, and I haven't the sheets of music from which to play!"

"What's this?" I exclaimed in mock surprise, grinning broadly as I pointed an accusing finger across the table. "A harper not familiar with the latest in music?"

"Shocking, I know, and totally inexcusable," Finder replied, a trifle embarrassed as a wave of companionable giggling swept the table adding to the harper's chagrin.

"Not to worry, good harper," I assured him, thumping his shoulder good-naturedly as I rose.

Sebell and the others had anticipated such a contingency. Retrieving my saddlebags, I reached in and produced one of the several copies of the musical score from 'Keymon's Song' which Silvina had packed carefully away within.

"With the Harper Hall's compliments."

Finder sighed with almost comic relief as I gently laid the sheets of music into his eagerly waiting hands. He was like a starving man as he poured over the music, tuning his gitar to make certain the pitch of each string was true.

"Hmm, I see Domick's hand in this," he commented as his nimble fingers danced across the strings.

Finder played through several sections to get the complicated fingerings down, and, with a final nod, turned expectantly to me.

Just then, Meer and Talla winged in through the open window. Either their feeding was done or they had sensed what was to come. Not far behind, Lana and her daughter, Doreen, entered by way of the door led by the hold steward, Brand.

"Do your fire lizards sing, Lady Sharra?" I inquired, pointing to them.

"Why, no!" she replied, surprised by the question. "At least they've never done so before."

"Hmm." I examined each of Sharra's friends, trying to judge their musical disposition.

"Is it important, John?" she inquired, her tone anxious.

"How much have you heard about 'Keymon's Song'?"

"Only drips and drabs, fragments really. That it's very beautiful is all we know."

Judging by the anxious expressions on the faces around me, she had to be telling the truth.

"Fire lizards seem to take quite a liking to the song," I explained. "It was quite a shock to Masterharper Menolly when we caught her Lazybones singing along with the rest of her fair."

"Lazybones!?" Finder exclaimed, his fingers striking several sour notes as they slipped across the strings of his gitar. "You're kidding, right?"

I shook my head, a grin on my face from ear to ear.

"This I've got to hear!" Jaxom said, sitting up in his seat.

The other dinner guests moved their chairs closer as I rose from my seat and moved over to stand beside the Ruathan harper. With a nod from me, Finder began playing the opening measure of the song. Recalling all that Master Shonagar had taught me, I settled my mind, stood up tall, drew in a deep breath, … and faltered as a dizzying wave of sadness and longing swept over me.

"John?" Being the skilled musician he was, Finder was the first to sense something was amiss. "What is it?"

My first reaction was to glance over at Sharra's fire lizards. But, no. Their eyes were red with anticipation.

"Jaxom?"

Sharra's voice was anxious, and as I turned, her husband was heading over to an open window through which a low, mournful sound reached my ears from the courtyard outside.

 _Couldn't I come in this once,_ a familiar voice pleaded, _so that I could hear better?_

I hurried to join the Lord Holder at the window. "Lord Jaxom?"

"It's Ruth," he said by way of answer to my unspoken question.

The white dragon was on his haunches, forepaws against the wall below us, his neck craning upward to catch a glimpse of the goings on inside. My eyes locked briefly with Ruth's, and I once again found myself adrift on that churning wave.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I whispered, my fingers grasping the windowsill like a vice to keep me from pitching over onto my ear. It was Ruth's emotions I was feeling, just as I'd felt Bolter's fear that first day I'd returned to consciousness!

"Did you say something, John?" Jaxom inquired, looking over at me.

Nervously clearing my throat, I replied, "Just thinking out loud, my lord," a sheepish grin on my face. Then, a flash of inspiration hit me. "Lord Jaxom, I'd like to ask a favor of you."

"If it's within my power to grant, it's yours."

"I was deeply moved by the warmth and friendliness of the holders I met on my journey here." I indicated Lana and her daughter as an example. "I'd like to do something for them in return. Would you be willing to open the gates to the outer court and invite the local holders to come? I could perform the song from the steps leading into the Great Hall."

"And Ruth would have no trouble hearing you," Jaxom commented, nodding toward the window. "That's why he was carrying on so. He doesn't like to miss out on anything."

"Do dragons sing, my lord?"

"Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"Just a thought, Lord Jaxom," I answered as I glanced out the window at Ruth.

Jaxom did agree to my request and word was sent forth immediately. Those who wished to attend were directed to the Hold courtyard. At the appointed hour, Lady Sharra and Finder escorted me to the doors of the Great Hall.

"Ready, John?" the Hold harper asked as servants made ready to open the massive doors.

"No," I replied around the numerous butterflies jittering around in my stomach.

"Too late now!" Sharra teased as the creaking Hold doors swung open.

What greeted my eyes caused me to draw up short in the middle of the doorway. The Hold outer courtyard was packed with expectant faces, and more were lined up on the causeway road beyond the open gates. Jaxom was standing to one side of the stairs with Ruth beside him; his two sons, Jarrol and Shawan, sitting astride Ruth's neck to give them a better view.

"John?" Sharra, sensing my hesitancy, was at my elbow.

"I'm reminded of a quote I once heard, Lady Sharra," I told her as I glanced out across the sea of faces. "'Be careful what you wish for; you might get it!'" It was all I could do to keep my knees from shaking. "Spirits of my ancestors!"

"You'll do fine, John," Sharra laughed, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze before she descended the stairs to join her husband.

"So many …" I whispered.

Holders young and old were gathered here, waiting to hear the song I'd brought to them from so far away.

 _He looks a little frightened, Jaxom,_ Ruth said to his rider and lifemate, an uncertain mix of orange and yellow tingeing his slowly whirling eyes. _You don't think he's too scared to sing, do you?_

It was there, unmistakable, the tone in Ruth's voice: anxious, almost pleading. That was all it took. As quickly as my nervousness had come, it fled as I held my hands up to quiet the murmurs of the crowd.

"Many Turns ago, a good and dear friend of mine introduced me to the song you are about to hear," I said in a voice loud enough to carry to the furthest ears of the crowd. "It tells of the people of Pun Ch'lar and their way of life which they graciously shared with me. I will sing it for you as it was taught to me … in the flowing and beautiful language of the Kendite people."

Excited whispers filtered throughout the crowd and I could sense the growing anticipation in Ruth and the fire lizards.

"Since my … unusual arrival on Pern, I have on numerous occasions heard people speak with reverence of Masterharper Robinton," I added. "I have felt the love and deep respect with which each person holds his memory. And, with each such meeting, my sorrow over not having met such a remarkable man has deepened. It is to his memory that I dedicate 'Keymon's Song' tonight."

Sharra's eyes were brimming with tears as I bowed respectfully to Lord Jaxom and his party, then I turned and nodded to Finder and his small group of musicians to begin.

As the opening strains filled the courtyard air, I concentrated once again on all that Master Shonagar had taught me. Standing tall, my shoulders back, I took a long, deep breath, and, at the appropriate moment, opened my mouth and let the beautiful language of the Kendite people flow gracefully from my lips.

Eyes half-lidded as I concentrated on my singing, what was happening around me at first went unnoticed. Hushed whispers rippled out through the crowd as the song entered the second verse. There was a fluttering of wings nearby, and I opened my eyes just in time to watch first Meer then Talla land on my shoulders. I continued on without breaking the song's rhythm, smiling and nodding assurances to the astonished Lady Sharra.

As Rocky and Bolter had done before them, Meer and Talla each gently grasped my ears to steady themselves before the delicately pure notes emerged from their throats to blend with the rest of the song. The effect was instantaneous, a wave of gasps spreading through the crowd like ripples on a pond.

"By Faranth's Egg!" Jaxom quietly exclaimed.

"Wow!" Jarrol, Jaxom's and Sharra's eldest, sighed.

 _It's as beautiful as the little ones told me,_ Ruth softly trilled, his eyes a contented deep blue.

Jaxom reached up and companionably slapped Ruth on the neck even as Sharra, tears in her eyes but smiling happily, drew closer to her husband.

As the magic of 'Keymon's Song' spread throughout the crowd, owners of fire lizards soon found themselves and their neighbors being serenaded. Some of the fire lizards even came forward to join me on the steps, forming a small choral group about my feet.

Excited whispers reached my ears as we entered the fourth verse, and as I looked out into the crowd, I saw several pointing excitedly to the tower and courtyard wall. A slow grin spread across my face as I kept on singing, for high on the walls above us, a small but growing number of wild fire lizards had gathered to listen to their musical cousins. As I continued to watch, one or two even ventured to join their voices to the others gathered below.

As the song entered the final verse, a strange new voice joined the chorus. Deeper than the fire lizards yet still higher than my own, I nearly faltered in my singing as I turned toward Lord Jaxom's party, the direction the sound was coming from. Words paled to insignificance at what I beheld. Ruth, Jaxom's white dragon, was back on his haunches, wings unfurled, his purplishy blue eyes half-lidded as he concentrated on the notes of the song.

And mine weren't the only eyes mirroring astonishment. Lord Jaxom, his Lady Sharra, and their two sons, Jarrol and Shawan, still astride Ruth's neck, all stared thunderstruck at the delicately crooning white dragon. As the song continued on, a beaming smile of pride slowly replaced Jaxom's astonishment, a smile, I noted, that was shared in equal measure by his wife.

On the final note of the song, Finder and his small group ended their musical accompaniment with a spectacular flourish, my singing quietly trailing off into silence. Nothing moved, not a soul in the courtyard or beyond stirred, enthralled as they were by the song's magic. Even the wild fire lizards atop the walls were frozen in place, unwilling to break the spell. Quietly, I descended the stairs and approached Ruth as he slowly settled back to the ground.

"Magnificent!" I sighed, grinning broadly. "Ruth is a grand singer, Lord Jaxom, Lady Sharra. My one regret is Master Robinton was not here to witness it." Then, to the white dragon, bowing deeply, I added, "Well done, Ruth, well done!"

Jaxom blinked a few times, shaking himself from the song's spell. Smiling proudly up at his lifemate, he said, "I had no idea Ruth could do that!"

"No one's ever heard a dragon sing before?" I inquired.

"They'll hum at a Hatching and when a queen is laying her eggs," Jaxom explained as he scrubbed the eye ridges of his lifemate, "but no one's ever heard one sing before! Ruth, that was … that was …"

 _Beautiful,_ Ruth quietly trilled. _Master Robinton would have loved it._

"Yes, it was beautiful, Ruth," Sharra said, wiping tears of sadness and joy from her cheeks. She came over and gave me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, John, for dedicating it to him. I know he would have loved it."

"My pleasure, Lady Sharra," I spluttered, suddenly shy. "I … I just wanted to do my best for him." A happy tear slid silently down my cheek.

"Aye, you've done that, John … and more!" said Finder, thumping me on the back as he and the other musicians came over. "The rumors we'd heard about the song didn't do it justice! What a marvelous gift you've brought us!"

The crowd gathered in the courtyard left no doubt about its opinion of the song, erupting into boisterous cheering and booming applause, scattering the gathered wild fire lizards with the explosion of sound. Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra joined the applause, Jarrol and Shawan cheering from Ruth's back, and I turned and bowed appreciatively to everyone, tears of joy falling from cheeks crimson with embarrassment.

 _Masterharper Robinton,_ I silently spoke, _wherever your spirit now dwells, I hope you enjoyed the song._

For a brief moment, I felt a warmth all over, like a ray of sunlight on your face as it pokes its way through a cloud. A feather-light touch brushed my shoulder, but when I turned to look, nothing was there. Still, it brought a smile to my face, for I knew beyond certainty that Masterharper Robinton had just given me his thanks.

"You're welcome, Master!" I wept.


	10. Chapter 10 - Misty Reunion

Chapter 10

 _ **Misty Reunion**_

The following morning as I put the saddlebags on Kismet, it was as if the crowds from last night's performance hadn't even gone home. Well-wishers filled the Hold courtyard and lined the causeway road beyond the gates.

"It's been a rare treat having you here, John," Jaxom said as I swung up into the saddle. "I hope you will visit us again, soon!"

"I would be honored to, Lord Jaxom," I replied, a smile on my face as I reached down to shake his hand.

 _Wish I could say goodbye, too,_ Ruth complained.

Jaxom and Sharra both chuckled, real affection for the little white dragon as they glanced over at his courtyard weyr, his head peeking out from around the edge of the door.

"Is Ruth afraid of Kismet, Lord Jaxom?"

"No, just the opposite," he chuckled, slapping my runner on the neck. "Dragons tend to spook runners. Ruth knows this. He doesn't want to upset Kismet."

I could understand one of the larger dragons spooking a runner, but Ruth … "Call him over, Lord Jaxom."

"John, do you think that's wise?" Sharra asked.

"Kismet's pretty steady for a runner. And I'd like to say goodbye, if I may."

 _Jaxom?_ Ruth stepped part way out of his weyr.

The Ruathan lord looked at me astride Kismet then turned and silently called his lifemate.

Slowly, Ruth emerged from his weyr and crossed the courtyard. Kismet remained motionless beneath me, my hand lightly stroking his mane. Eventually, dragon and runner were nose to nose … and nary a twitch from Kismet.

"Well, I'll be!" Jaxom chuckled, patting his white friend on the neck.

"Seems you were right, John," Sharra added as dragon and runner rubbed noses in greeting.

"I knew Ruth was no threat. Maybe Kismet sensed that from me."

 _Brave for a runner,_ was Ruth's observation. Then, drawing a step closer, he began rubbing his muzzle very gently against my leg. _I'm sorry about yesterday_.

Smiling, I reached over and gently patted his neck. "Lord Jaxom?"

"He's just apologizing for that incident yesterday," Jaxom explained, unaware that I already knew.

"Ah, don't give it another thought, my white friend," I assured the little dragon. "No real harm was done. And if what you sense is true, that I am of the Ruathan bloodline, …"

 _There is no doubt!_ Ruth vehemently replied _. The power sings in you. You are Ruathan!_

"Well, Ruth is certainly convinced!" Jaxom chuckled, patting his lifemate affectionately on the neck.

"You have a grand voice for singing, Ruth," I told Jaxom's dragon. "It's been a rare honor meeting you."

"When you return, please bring your young friend, Ryeena, with you," Sharra added. "We've heard such good things from Lessa about her that I'm dying to meet this young lady!"

"I shall certainly extend your gracious invitation to her, Lady Sharra," I said, "but it will be up to her uncle if she can attend."

"Safe journey, John," Jaxom said as he and Ruth slowly backed away.

"My deepest thanks for all your hospitality, Lord Jaxom," I spoke, gathering up Kismet's reins. "To all who dwell in Ruatha, I wish a long life and bountiful prosperity. Until we meet again!"

With a slap of the reins, Kismet headed slowly through the crowd and out the gates. Once clear of all the people, I turned him northwest along the foothills toward Ice Lake.

Travel through the mountainous terrain was slow because of the winding trails and constant switchbacks. I was very grateful for Kismet's sturdy build and endurance.

Our goal that second day was a small hold south of a mining site in the Great Western Mountains, about fifty miles west-northwest of Ruatha. Kismet and I reached the hold late that second afternoon, and, as promised, were warmly received by the inhabitants. Glowbaskets in the Hold burned late into the evening as I entertained the local holders with stories of my travels amongst the stars.

A sturdy lot and early risers, the miners were up before the sun, feeding and grooming Kismet and preparing a hearty breakfast for me. It was hard to say goodbye to my new friends, but time and impending Threadfalls were against me. There were tears in my eyes as I waved goodbye, the entire hold turning out to see me off. One day, I would return to this place to renew our friendships.

With the morning sun lighting our way, the trails on the western side of the mountain range were easier to negotiate, and once clear of the foothills, Kismet and I made good time to Sattle Hold on the Tillek peninsula, our next stopover point.

For the evening meal, herdbeast gave way to local sea fare: packtail, an ugly, boxy fish that was difficult to clean but whose meat, properly roasted, proved delicious; and spiderclaws, a sea crustacean not unlike Earth's crabs.

The meal was sumptuous, my hosts very congenial. They, too, proved insatiably curious about Earth and all the myriad worlds I'd been to. Glowbaskets had to be replenished that evening we stayed up so late.

At sunrise, with a full stomach and a hearty farewell, I said goodbye to my hosts at Sattle Hold and set off on the final leg of my journey to Ryeena's home — Misty Hold.

Travel along the coast proved very relaxing, the sounds of the ocean waves keeping time with Kismet's steps. As we drew closer to our destination, he seemed to sense my excitement and several times burst into a gallop. I let him have his head for, truth be told, I was excited if a little anxious, too.

It was mid-afternoon on the Tillek peninsula when we finally 'Klop-klop'ed our way up the road leading to our destination. Misty Hold consisted of several smaller cotholds, and I would need help to find the one I was looking for. A few of the local cotholders were out tending their fields, so I turned Kismet in the direction of the nearest one.

"Good day to you, good holder," I called out as I reined Kismet to a halt a short distance away from him and his plow-beast. "Could you tell me where I might find the cot of Holder Gerrald?"

"You won't find him there, stranger," the holder replied. "He's out plowing his fields."

And then, the man spotted the blaster strapped to my leg.

"You're him!" he exclaimed, his eyes growing immense as he brushed the dirt from his hands. "The one whose strange craft fell on Tarron's fields! The one everyone's talking about!"

"My name's John, good holder," I said, dismounting to shake his hand. "And, yes, I come from Earth."

"I'm Messan," he introduced himself. "Gerrald's cot isn't far from here."

"Can you tell me how to find it?"

"Just over that rise," he said, pointing northwest in the direction the road was going. "You'll see a large rock outcropping in one of the fields. Gerrald's cot is the nearest to it, just the other side of the rocks."

"My thanks, Holder Messan," I said, remounting Kismet.

"Will you be staying long?"

"I'm hoping to." Seeing the keen interest in his eyes, I added, "Perhaps while I'm here, I might visit your cot, as well."

"I look forward to it, friend John," Messan said, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Till then!" I called out, flicking the reins to urge Kismet up the road.

It wasn't hard to find the outcropping – it stuck out of the field like a series of broken teeth. And the cot was right where Messan said it would be. The moment I laid eyes on it, all the uncertainty I'd felt back at the Harper Hall returned with a vengeance, mutating the butterflies in my stomach into fluttering behemoths. Gulping down the lump in my throat, I turned Kismet onto the path to the cot.

At the cot's front porch, Kismet stopped. For a long moment, I didn't stir from the saddle as I stared at the closed front door, uncertain if I had the courage to go through with it.

'"It may well be that she won't want to see you when you find her, John, but you won't know unless you go."' Silvina's words, echoing within my mind. '"And she won't know just how much she means to you unless you do."'

With an uneasy sigh, I finally dismounted, securing Kismet's reins to the porch rail.

Climbing the steps, I paused yet again, my fist hovering a scant few centimeters from the door. My hands were trembling and my knees felt weak, the butterfly behemoths stampeding around my insides.

"Ryeena …" I whispered.

Drawing one last steadying breath, I rapped gently on the door. A few seconds passed, then the door opened a crack.

"Yes?" a small young girl asked as she peered shyly out from around the door.

"I'm looking for the cot of Holder Gerrald, young miss," I said, bowing to her. "Could you tell me if I've come to the right place?"

"He's my daddy," she replied, stepping out a little from behind the door.

"Ah, good!" I said, smiling. "I'm told a young friend of mine lives here. Her name's Ryeena. Is she home?"

"She's your friend?" The little girl gasped, tiny hands flying to her mouth as she stared at me through enormous eyes. "John?!" she dared inquire as her gaze flicked dizzily back and forth from my face to the blaster at my side.

"That's right. I …"

BLAM! The slamming door was like a shot through my heart.

"No, wait!" I called out, a pleading hand rising to beckon the child back. "Please!"

Tears filled my eyes as I stared, confused and bereft, at the closed door. It seemed my worst fears had just been confirmed. Ryeena didn't want to see me! Heartbroken, I glanced helplessly at the saddlebags in my hands.

"Ryeena!" I wept, her name a mournful sob as I spoke it.

The gathering tears fell from my cheeks as I turned to leave, but before I could step off the porch, the door to the cot swung open once more. This time, a woman was there to greet me, the little girl beside her, pulling excitedly at the hem of the woman's skirt.

"See, Mommy? I told you!" she exclaimed, pointing excitedly. "It's him! He's here!"

"I … I'm … sorry to disturb you," I apologized as I wiped the tears away. "I was looking for my friend, Ryeena. Is she here?"

"I'm Nylene, her aunt," the woman said, smiling as she extended her hand in greeting. "Please, come in, John!"

Guiding me inside, she led me to the main sitting room and offered me a seat.

"Thank you," I said, easing myself into it.

"Trillene, go find Ryeena. Quickly, child!"

"Yes'm!" and the little girl bolted from sight.

"Are you alright, John?" Nylene inquired.

"What?" I responded a bit dazedly.

"I couldn't help noticing the tears," Nylene commented, her tone warm and caring.

I felt a warmth in my cheeks and knew I was blushing. A mighty sigh escaped me before I spoke.

"I've missed your niece very much, Lady Nylene," I said, eyes on the saddlebags in my hands. "I've been very worried she might not want to see me again. When Trillene slammed the door in my face, I …" Words failed me, my voice trailing off into silence.

"Oh, John, you've no idea how much Ryeena's missed you!"

Gasping in surprise, I looked up to find Nylene smiling and nodding to me.

"I spoke with the caravan master after he dropped her off," she explained. "He told me Ryeena cried for nearly two straight days on the journey back. And she hasn't stopped talking about you since. All the wonderful stories you shared with her, your singing, meeting Masterharper Menolly and her fair of fire lizards … I think she's grown quite attached to you!"

"As much as I've become very fond of her, Lady Nylene," I said, feeling tears in my eyes again. "I …"

From somewhere within the cot, Nylene and I both heard the startled squawk of a fire lizard.

"Sounds like Trillene's found her!" I chuckled.

In the same breath, Bolter popped from _between,_ chittering excitedly. The moment he laid eyes on me, he squealed with delight, buzzing about my head in a blur of happiness.

It was impossible to keep up with the little dragon. One second he was perched on my shoulder, twittering madly, the next disheveling my hair as he flitted about my head, then off doing somersaults through the air before starting it all over again. I must have looked an absolute fright when Ryeena skidded to a halt at the sitting room entrance.

"Ry, watch it!" Trillene complained, plowing into her cousin from behind.

Neither of us moved as our eyes met. All during the trip here I'd gone over again and again in my mind what I was going to say. So, when the moment finally came, what was the best I could come up with?

"Hi."

"Hi," Ryeena quietly replied.

"Well, don't just stand there like a wherry, child," Nylene chided her niece. "Your friend's traveled a long way to see you!"

Ryeena's lips were trembling and there were tears in her eyes as I slowly knelt, arms outstretched, beckoning to her. In spite of her small size, she nearly bowled me over rushing into my arms.

"John!"

My name came out as a long shuddering sob; Ryeena's arms clinging to me with such fierceness, it robbed me of breath.

"Stars, I've missed you!" I wept, clutching her tightly to me.

We remained that way for quite some time, neither of us moving, both of us crying, neither of us caring a whit, Bolter crooning reassuringly to us both all the while. When Ryeena finally pulled back to gaze at me, she was smiling.

"You really missed me?" she whispered, gently touching my tear-dampened cheek. I nodded. "After the way I left you at the Harper Hall, I was afraid you'd never want to see me again!"

Nylene and I both giggled.

"What's so funny?" Ryeena wondered, looking from me to her aunt.

"Your friend said nearly the same thing just a moment ago, sweetheart," Nylene replied, smiling warmly at us.

"What?!" exclaimed Ryeena, eyes wide as she stared at me. "John, I …"

My finger on her lips cut her off.

"Sshhh! It's alright," I said, smiling as I laid a trembling hand against her cheek. "Silvina told me why you left. And I'm proud of you for keeping your promise."

"Promise?" inquired Nylene.

"Headwoman Silvina explained to me," I said as I stood, "that when I was first brought to the Harper Hall, Ryeena insisted on coming along. But, because she wasn't an apprentice there or a paying student, she promised to stay only until she felt I'd be alright."

"Hers was the first face I saw when I finally regained consciousness," I said, smiling at Ryeena. "Masterhealer Oldive and the other Harper Hall masters credit her constant presence at my bedside with saving my life. I can never fully repay her for that."

There was a beaming smile on my face as I gave my young friend a gentle embrace.

"Ryeena and Bolter have been my constant companions, Lady Nylene, my dearest friends," I continued, Ryeena grinning up at me as I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "She's been very patient with me and taught me everything she knows about Pern, helping me to understand a great deal about its people and customs. And when I was feeling a little sad or depressed, she always had a way of making me smile."

"You never told us any of this, dear," Nylene commented, smiling proudly.

Ryeena merely nibbled on her lower lip and gave my arm a hug.

Just then, from outside came the rapid pounding of a runnerbeast's hooves, the stuttering steps as it was reined to a halt, followed by heavy footsteps on the porch just before the front door burst open.

"Nylene!" a man bellowed as he entered. "Where …"

"No need to shout, love," she told him, going over to embrace the man. "John, this is my husband, Holder Gerrald." Then, gesturing toward Ryeena and I, "And this, sweetheart, is John, Ryeena's friend from Earth."

"A pleasure, Holder Gerrald," I replied as we shook hands. "But how did you know I was here? Holder Messan said you were out plowing your fields!"

"That bloody fool came running across the furrows, bellowing like a madman!" Gerrald laughed. "He was babbling so much, it took forever to calm him down long enough to understand what he was saying!"

"I hope this hasn't taken you away from anything important," I apologized.

"Don't give it another thought, John," Gerrald assured me, waving my concern aside. "Sun's going down. I'd've been coming in soon, anyway."

"A pity you missed their reunion, sweetheart," Nylene said, taking Gerrald's arm, happy tears glistening in her eyes. "It was absolutely priceless!"

"I can well imagine!" Gerrald commented, looking from Ryeena to me.

From outside, many hurried footsteps and excited voices heralded the arrival of the hold youngsters; Gerrald's and Nylene's own children and the hold fosterlings, about a dozen in all. They poured through the open door, hands and clothes soiled from work in the field.

"Dad, what's going on?" one boy asked, breathing hard. They'd obviously been running to get here.

"Yeah!" a girl added. "We saw you tearing over the hill on Far Runner like you were trying to outrun Threadfall!"

"Thread's not falling early, is it?" another youngster anxiously inquired.

"And where'd that other runner come from?" still another wondered aloud.

"Hey, who's he?" one of the children inquired, pointing my way.

"My friend!" Ryeena informed them, smiling as she gave me a proprietary hug.

Her pronouncement brought instant silence … and bugged-out eyes!

"You … you mean …" one of the girls stammered, pointing off in the direction of my crash site.

"Jays! Not the one from …" one of the elder boys spluttered, one hand limply pointing upward.

"Yep!" Ryeena replied, beaming at me.

None of the children moved. They just stood there, gawking, unsure what to do next. With no warning, I leaped at them, landing in a crouch, snarling like some wild beast. The children scattered, their immobility cured, some screaming in fright, others looking ready to faint. Gerrald roared with laughter.

"It's not funny, Daddy!" one of the girls complained. "I nearly messed myself!"

"I'm sorry, Varla," Gerrald chuckled, giving the girl a hug. "You were all staring at John so hard, I think he was just trying to tell you he won't bite."

Varla turned to me, her face uncertain.

I nodded, confirming her father's statement. Extending my hand, with an embarrassed grin, I asked, "Friends, Varla?"

She looked to her father, who nodded, then back to me.

"Friends!" she agreed, vigorously pumping my arm up and down.

That's all it took to finally break the ice. The children gathered close, each eagerly asking his or her own question, the cacophony of sound making it difficult to hear even one of them. Somewhere during the press of bodies, a hand found its way to my blaster, and I turned in time to see it moving off with one of the elder boys to one side of the room.

"Hey! Look at this!" he cried as he fingered the barrel. "What is it?"

"Mostef, be careful!" Ryeena exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "That's John's blaster. It's dangerous!"

"You know what that thing is?" Gerrald asked, coming up beside her.

"John used it to save me from the wherries," she told him. "Something shoots out of it like a thrower. He brought down seven wherries with it from over twelve dragonlengths away!"

"Twelve?!" Mostef exclaimed, eyeing the blaster with renewed excitement.

"Better give it to me," I said, holding out my hand.

Bolter flitted about the boy's head, scolding angrily as he dove repeatedly at the hand Mostef held my blaster with.

"I want to try it!" he demanded, pulling it away.

"You can't," I said, shaking my head. "A Star Service blaster is made in such a way that only its original owner can use it."

"I don't believe you," he hissed.

"Mostef, give John his weapon!" Gerrald ordered. "Now!"

"I think he's bluffing," Mostef spoke defiantly, his finger closing about the trigger.

"You don't want to fool with it, Mostef," I warned him. "Trust me. It won't let you."

"It?" he scoffed, chuckling as he looked down at the blaster. "And what's it going to do, bite me?"

"Worse."

Our eyes locked. For an instant, there was doubt in Mostef's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by wry amusement. He never saw the seriousness in mine.

"Now I know you're bluffing," he laughed, pointing the blaster at one of the chairs and squeezing the trigger.

"Mostef!" Gerrald barked.

There was a short, loud burst of sound from the blaster, but it wasn't the only thing that ended up on the floor. Mostef wound up flat on his back … after first being hurled nearly four meters through the air.

"John?" Ryeena inquired, her face anxious as she looked at me.

No one moved as I retrieved my blaster then went over to check on Mostef.

"He'll be alright, Ryeena," I assured her with a nod and a wink. "Just a stun charge, is all."

Bolter settled to my shoulder as I peered down at Mostef.

"Stun charge?" Gerrald wondered, sounding confused.

"As I tried to warn your son, Holder Gerrald," I said as I checked Mostef's pulse, "the Star Service blaster is designed to prevent it being used if it ever fell into the wrong hands. Anyone other than the original owner trying to use it triggers a stun charge, rendering the would-be user unconscious and, hopefully, discouraging them from trying again in the future."

"Ohh!" Mostef blinked his eyes a few times, finally got them to focus, then looked about. "What …"

"I tried to warn you," I said.

Bolter added his own reprimand, twittering angrily from his perch on my shoulder before giving a final snort and hiss of disgust.

"Warn me!?" Mostef exploded, sitting bolt upright. "Shells, it felt like a runnerbeast kicked me in the chest!"

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he grumbled.

"Good," I growled.

With a surprised squawk, Bolter suddenly found himself airborne as I, moving with a speed swift enough to unseat him from his perch, grabbed Mostef's shirt with both hands, yanked him bodily off the floor, and slammed him into the wall.

"I don't know if you've got herdbeast dung for brains, Mostef," I hissed, fury sparking like fire from my eyes, "but the next time you call somebody's bluff, you better be damned certain you know what you're doing. Such foolhardiness could get you killed!"

"I … I'm sorry," he stammered, his face suddenly ashen.

Setting him back on the floor, I smoothed out his shirt, saying, "If you learned something from this, then I'm glad, 'cause I don't want to see you get hurt."

Mostef stared at me as if I'd just slapped him in the face.

"It's okay to be curious," I said, looking about at the others, "but temper that curiosity with caution."

"Friends?" I asked, offering Mostef my hand.

"Friends!" he agreed, sighing with relief as we shook hands.

"Hope you learned something from this, son," Gerrald said, gripping Mostef's shoulder.

"I sure did," he chuckled, grinning at me. "Never stand behind a kicking runnerbeast!"

That sent everyone into a fit of giggling.

When we'd all finally regained our composure, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, Gerrald asked, "Will you be able to stay for the evening meal, John? Our table would be greatly honored if you'd join us."

Coming up beside me, Ryeena gave my arm a hug, a smile on her lips and a plea in her eyes.

"Actually, Holder Gerrald, I was hoping I might be able to stay a bit longer than that," I said, eliciting a hopeful gasp from Ryeena. "It's one of the reasons why I came here. Masterhealer Oldive seemed to think some time in the sun and salty air might help my recovery."

"Please, Uncle, can he stay?" Ryeena implored, hugging me about the waist.

"I'm willing to work for my keep," I said. "It might actually do me some good, helping to rebuild my strength."

"No lack of work around here," Gerrald said, gazing out the window at the fields beyond.

"Then, he can stay?" Ryeena dared hope.

Bolter added his own appeal, trilling sweetly from Ryeena's shoulder. Every eye was on Gerrald, the room filled with a hush of anticipation.

"More hands will certainly make the work go faster," he commented, stroking the side of his chin before turning to his wife. "That spare cot still in the storeroom?"

Ryeena let out a squeal of delight as she gave me another fierce hug.

"I'll get some of the children to help move it," Nylene replied, smiling at her niece. "We can bed him down with the boys."

"Thank you, Holder Gerrald, Lady Nylene," I said, shaking his hand, bowing deeply to her. "This is most generous of you."

"A moment ago, John, you hinted at more than one reason for coming here …" Gerrald commented, regarding me.

"Indeed I did," I acknowledged. "The first night of my journey here, I had the good fortune to spend the evening with Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra of Ruatha. I was quite surprised to learn Lord Jaxom is also a dragonrider!"

"A just Lord Holder, that one," Gerrald commented, nodding approvingly. "Wouldn't mind living in Ruatha."

"Did you meet Ruth, John?" Trillene boldly inquired.

"I sure did," I chuckled as I reached over to ruffle her hair. "We also did 'Keymon's Song', Ryeena."

"'Keymon's Song'?" Gerrald pondered.

"It's a beautiful song, Uncle Gerrald," Ryeena enthusiastically explained, "taught to him by his friend, the one the song's named after. Did Lady Sharra's fire lizards sing along?"

"Meer and Talla?" I asked.

Ryeena nodded.

"More," I told her, smiling broadly at the surprise on her face, "many, many more."

"Just how many look to her, John?" Nylene asked.

"Only Meer and Talla," I laughed, waving assurances. "The others were from outside Ruatha Hold."

"Outside?" one of the other children queried.

"Lord Jaxom's dragon had wanted to hear the song, but he wouldn't fit comfortably within the hold, so we moved out to the courtyard," I explained. "I also asked Lord Jaxom to invite the local holders to come so that I could repay them for the kindness I'd been shown. The courtyard and the causeway road beyond were packed with spectators, and those with fire lizards soon found themselves being serenaded."

"Wish I'd been there to see it," Ryeena said, grinning. "I'll bet that surprised them!"

"It was pure magic, Ryeena," I sighed, happily. "Even the local wild fire lizards came, a dozen or so perched on the courtyard wall, listening. One or two of them were even brave enough to join the singing!"

"Wild fire lizards?!"

"You'll never guess who filled in for Lazybones on the last verse."

"Who?"

"Yes, who?" Nylene queried, her curiosity piqued.

"Guess!" I said, looking at Ryeena.

At first, she shook her head, her expression puzzled. Then, all at once, Ryeena gasped, her eyes flying wide as she stared at me, jaw hanging open. I was grinning from ear to ear, chuckling at the look of astonishment on her face.

"You're serious?!" she exclaimed.

"On my life, Ryeena!" I laughed, raising one hand, the other covering my heart.

"Who was it?" one of the girls asked.

"Yes, who?" added Mostef.

The room filled with a long moment of silence, Ryeena and I grinning conspiratorially at one another.

"It was Ruth, wasn't it?" asked little Trillene.

"Ruth?!" Gerrald exclaimed, "Lord Jaxom's dragon?"

Murmurs of disbelief swept through his family as I knelt in front of Trillene, marveling at such perceptiveness in one so young.

"I sympathize with your disbelief, Holder Gerrald," I said, giving Trillene a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Even Lord Jaxom was surprised. But it was beautiful to listen to!"

I sighed happily, remembering the splendor of that magical moment.

"Wish I'd been there to hear it," Ryeena muttered, clearly disappointed.

"You may yet have a chance to, Ryeena," I said, "if your uncle agrees."

"Agrees?" Gerrald pondered. "To what?"

"The second reason for my visit," I replied, standing again. "Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra had spoken with the Benden Weyrleaders recently and had heard good things about Ryeena from them."

"Me?!" she stammered, her cheeks reddening as excited whispers came from the other children.

"Before I left Ruatha, Lord Jaxom invited me to return one day," I continued, "and Lady Sharra asked that I please bring Ryeena along so that she could finally meet her!"

"I see!" Gerrald commented, coming over to stand before his niece. "Seems a good deal more went on at the Harper Hall than you've told us, young lady." Ryeena squirmed nervously, shuffling her feet, her eyes averted. "Still, there'll be a Gather soon at Ruatha. Perhaps we could all go."

This brought jubilant cries and excited whispers from the other children.

"Uncle Gerrald," Ryeena muttered, "I … I can't!"

"Why not, child?" Nylene inquired, cocking her head to peer into Ryeena's down-turned face.

"A visit with the Lord and Lady Holder of Ruatha?" she quietly wept. "I don't have anything near good enough to wear to something so important."

"Oh, Ryeena," Nylene sighed, drawing her niece to her. "Don't worry, honey. We'll find you something." Then, looking up at her husband, she added, "We'll all have to find something proper to wear, I fear."

"Perhaps this will do, Ryeena," I said, holding out a colorfully wrapped package retrieved from my saddlebags.

"What is it?" Gerrald asked as I gently laid the bundle into Ryeena's waiting hands.

"The final reason for my visit, Holder Gerrald," I told him, "the real reason I came to find Ryeena."

"What is it, John?" Nylene inquired, examining the bundle in Ryeena's hands.

Smiling warmly at my friend, I said, "Something she left behind at the Harper Hall."

Ryeena gasped, nearly dropping the package. Her hands were trembling as I gently squeezed them reassuringly, her lips quivered with the effort to control her emotions, and tears fell like rain from her eyes. No words were said between us; none were needed. The look in Ryeena's tear-filled eyes as I drew her to me was all that was necessary.

"John, what's going on?" Gerrald demanded. "Why is Ryeena crying? What, by the First Egg, is in that package?"

Ryeena was first to speak, pulling back from me a little.

"It … it …" she stammered, struggling to control her happy weeping.

"Take a deep breath, Ryeena," Nylene urged her, stroking the hair out of her eyes. "Now, try again. What is it?"

"It …" she began again, wiping her eyes, but still speech eluded her. She turned to me. "John …"

"It's a gown, Lady Nylene," I told her, hugging Ryeena's head to me, "painstakingly fashioned from a most beautiful deep forest green fabric. A gift from the Harper Hall headwoman, Silvina … Ryeena's reward for all the time and effort she spent helping me to recover." Her smiling face beamed up at me as I looked at her. "She was wearing it the day she introduced me to the Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen of Pern!"

"You've met Dragonriders in person?!" Gerrald stammered, the awe and envy in his voice unmistakable.

"Weyrwoman Lessa herself shook hands with your niece, Holder Gerrald," I said, smiling at my friend. But the looks of astonishment on the faces around me made it clear that Ryeena's family knew nothing about it. "You didn't tell them?"

"John, I …"

Kneeling before my friend, I smiled in understanding. "No … no, you wouldn't, would you?" I said as I laid my hand against Ryeena's blushing cheek. "Why don't you go put on the gown so everyone can see how beautiful you look in it? And I'll fill in the details, alright?"

"Okay," she said, sniffling back a happy tear.

I watched Ryeena depart, Bolter warbling happily as he winged along above her head, Trillene going along to help. Then, I turned to face Ryeena's family.

"Where should I start?" I asked.

"The beginning, I think," Holder Gerrald replied, staring after his niece.

So I recounted my tale of the message rocket and how it had eventually led me to the Pern Colonization Charter. I gave them a brief description of the dreams I'd had since first finding the charter right up to the last one just before the meteor storm. I didn't go into any lengthy details about my impulse escape, the obstacles of the asteroid belt, nor the hazards of reentry, but I could tell by their expressions they were still suitably impressed.

"Whew! Nearly being crushed by something as big as Belior!" Varla whistled, struggling to even imagine such a near calamity. "By the stars!"

"It's a wonder you're even alive, John!" Gerrald said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"A daunting chain of events, Holder Gerrald, to be sure," I remarked, nodding agreement.

"And the distance you traveled to get here!" Nylene added, her brow furrowed as she struggled to grasp its enormity. "Alone all that time … nearly three Turns. However did you manage?"

"Belief in my dreams, Lady Nylene," I replied. "Somehow Pern was calling to me, even across such a vast distance. I had to find out what had become of Admiral Benden and the other colonists. It was a path I felt compelled to follow, no matter the cost."

"Daddy?"

All eyes turned at the sound of Trillene's voice. Startled gasps followed quickly by jealous 'oohs' and envious 'ahhs' filled the room. Ryeena, dressed once more in that lovely gown of forest green, was standing beside Trillene in the hallway opening, a shy smile upon her glowing face. Crossing the room to where she stood, I offered her my arm and led her over to her aunt and uncle.

"So, Holder Gerrald, Lady Nylene, what do you think of my pretty protector?" I asked, a beaming smile on my face.

"John, please!" Ryeena quietly murmured, demurely averting her eyes as the blush in her cheeks spread clear to the tips of her ears.

The other children gathered around us, staring in awe and wonder at Ryeena's gown. Occasionally, a curious hand would reach out to finger the fabric it was made of.

"Sweetheart, it's absolutely gorgeous!" Nylene proclaimed, hugging her niece. "You look so pretty in it, like a fairy tale princess!"

"Thanks, Auntie Nylene," Ryeena replied.

"John, why'd you call Ryeena your 'pretty protector'?" Trillene inquired as she tugged on my shirtsleeve.

Ryeena's blush deepened.

"Ryeena …" I spoke, nodding for her to explain.

My young friend merely fidgeted nervously, her eyes turned away, biting her lower lip and shuffling her feet. I gently reached out and lifted her chin so she would look at me.

"According to Master Oldive and Silvina," I told everyone, "for the three sevendays I lay unconscious, Ryeena was constantly in attendance, hardly ever leaving my side. And when she did leave, Bolter was there to keep an eye on me."

I reached over to scratch the little brown's eye ridges.

"I don't remember it myself, but I'm told they were able to get some nourishment into me during several brief periods of semi-consciousness because Ryeena was there to alert them," I explained, giving her a grateful hug. "It kept me alive until I regained consciousness."

"She saved your life?!" Varla exclaimed, staring in wonder at her cousin.

"Ryeena might dispute it," I said, grinning as I gave her a companionable hug, "but Master Oldive and Silvina both agree her constant presence at my bedside made the difference."

"Well, you saved my life, John," Ryeena added, smiling up at me, "so we're even!"

"It was on my first full day after regaining consciousness that Master Oldive, Silvina, and Master Sebell came to see me," I said, continuing my explanation. "It seemed the Weyrleaders of Pern were anxious to meet with me, and Master Oldive wanted to know if I felt up to it. Ryeena insisted we wait a day to give me time to rest, recover some of my strength, and get some additional nourishment into my body."

"You told the Dragonriders to wait?!" Gerrald spluttered, his jaw hanging open as he stared, disbelieving, at Ryeena, nervous murmurings coming from the others around us.

"You needn't worry, Holder Gerrald," I assured him. "Ryeena had Master Oldive's _and_ Master Sebell's complete support. The Dragonriders were very understanding. Weyrwoman Lessa herself praised Ryeena's courage and good sense."

"You can be very proud of your niece, Holder Gerrald, Lady Nylene," I told them as I looked down and gave my friend a loving hug, tears coming freely to my eyes. "I know I was."

There was a grin on Holder Gerrald's face stretching from ear to ear, and he looked ready to bust out of his shirt he was so proud. The children merely stood about gawking at Ryeena, totally flabbergasted.

"You could have told us a little bit, you know," Nylene said, gently chiding Ryeena as she knelt in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Auntie."

"Don't be, child!" Nylene told her, weeping as she hugged Ryeena tightly. "We are proud of you … very, very proud!"

Tears fell from Ryeena's face as she returned her aunt's embrace.

"You met Weyrwoman Lessa? Stars!" Trillene sighed, grinning enviously as she stared in awe at Ryeena. "What was she like, Ryeena, huh?"

"We'll have plenty of time to hear all about it, but later," Gerrald said. "Right now, we've got to get John settled, his runnerbeast bedded down, and the evening meal on the table."

Little did Holder Gerrald realize the storm of confusion he would unleash as the older children began fighting over who would help me move the spare cot and who would help take care of Kismet. Eventually, he had to step in, sending three of the children with Nylene to begin preparing the evening meal, four to see to Kismet and Holder Gerrald's own runnerbeast, while Mostef, Gerrald, and I retrieved the spare cot and placed it by the window in the room with the boys.

The evening meal was sumptuous, each dish a tasty delight. All through the meal, Ryeena and I were bombarded with questions about all the goings-on at the Harper Hall during her stay there, and we did our best to answer all of them.

I couldn't help but notice the smiles of pride on the faces of Gerrald and Nylene nor the furtive, jealous or envious looks from the other Hold children as I recounted the story of Ryeena singing the 'Fire Lizard's Song' accompanied by Menolly's fair. Then, as was fitting, it was my turn to squirm with embarrassment as Ryeena told them about 'Keymon's Song' and the stir that it caused in the Harper Hall. The highlight of the evening, though, was Ryeena's retelling of our meeting with the Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen of Pern.

"Ista, Southern, Fort … and Benden Weyrs!" Gerrald remarked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"And Weyrwoman Lessa!" Nylene whispered, glancing nervously about her. "Oh!"

It wasn't hard to guess she was worried about what the Benden Weyrwoman would think of her home if she ever came to call.

Every face that regarded Ryeena and I was a complex mask of awe, respect, and jealousy; even Gerrald's and Nylene's where pride was an added feature. From Ryeena's teachings, I knew that for any Pernese citizen, having seen a dragonrider was cause enough to boast. Actually meeting one made you the target of envy and jealousy from those less fortunate. And Ryeena and I had been in the same room and shaken hands with some of the most important Dragonriders on all Pern, including the Benden leaders.

"He did what?!" Gerrald exploded, leaping to his feet.

"Hit Mnementh in the face," Ryeena repeated, unable to stop giggling, "with a pillow!"

Nylene looked ready to faint; the hold children merely stared, thunderstruck, at me. In true harper fashion, Ryeena held the entire family spellbound with her tale of the incident with Mnementh and Ramoth. All through the telling, there were furtive, even wary, glances from her family, and I found it difficult not to squirm under their scrutiny. Yet, these same people had opened their hearts and home to me, welcoming me to their family. I didn't want to jeopardize their friendship, so I called upon all my first contactor experience and put on my best diplomatic air in the hope of placating any fears or jealousies. I managed to make it to bed without having to explain about the watch-dragon incident.

Life around the little cothold quickly settled into a more normal routine. In the mornings, I would join Holder Gerrald and his family in the fields helping to cultivate their crops. And in the evenings, I would help prepare some of the dishes for the evening meal.

"Here you go, John," Ryeena said, handing me a cup of water.

"Oh! Thanks, Ryeena," I replied, brushing the dirt I'd gotten from picking tubers from my hands before taking the cup.

From atop Ryeena's shoulder, Bolter began twittering angrily, looking back and forth at the two of us as if saying 'Hey, what about me?'

"When John's had his, you greedy gut!" Ryeena scolded, playfully swatting Bolter's forepaws away.

"Look at them, Gerrald," Nylene commented, watching us from a nearby rise. "I've never seen Ryeena so happy!"

"Humph!" Gerrald snorted, turning back to the harness on his plow-beast.

"Haven't you noticed the way they look at each other?" Nylene asked, laying a hand on Gerrald's shoulder. "Like …"

"She used to look at us that way," was his reply, the plow-beast grunting as Gerrald tightened one of the cinches a bit too forcefully.

"No, not like this," Nylene disagreed, turning back toward us, "never like this. There's a bond between them," she said, smiling as I bowed to Ryeena in gratitude for the water, "a special one that runs to the very core of their beings. John has lost his heart to her, Gerrald," she said, wiping away a tear as Ryeena gave me a hug before returning to the cot with the basket of tubers I'd picked, "and she has given hers freely to him."

"He's not her father!" Gerrald objected, rounding on her, anger bringing redness to his face.

"And neither are you!" Nylene just as hotly responded, hands planted firmly on her hips. Then, more gently, she added, "My love, we've done all we could for her. These past three Turns since the tragic accident that took your sister and brother-in-law, we've been her family, loving her and caring for her. But neither of us has been able to reach this far and touch her this deeply. Would you take from her the happiness she has found once again?"

"No," Gerrald grunted, turning away from her. "No."

"Oh, sweetheart," Nylene murmured, hugging herself to his strong back. "The day will soon be coming when John will feel well enough to travel on, and Ryeena may want to go with him."

Gerrald turned round to his wife, a weak smile upon his lips.

"Then, let us hope, my love," he whispered, hugging Nylene close to hide the tears in his eyes, "that when that day arrives, we somehow find the courage to say 'Yes'."


	11. Chapter 11 - Nightmare From The Past

Chapter 11

 _ **Nightmare from The Past**_

Traditions were as much a part of the Pernese culture as that of any other world I'd visited. One that had followed the colonists from Earth was the idea of setting aside one day a week - on Pern, a sevenday - to be with family and friends, to leave the concerns of work behind. They called it a Restday, though with me as Holder Gerrald's star border, no one in the cot got much, if any, rest. Curious onlookers and craftmasters were always about, asking questions and listening to the colorful stories from my star-spanning travels. Many a night the glows were lit till the wee hours of the morning. When word got out that I was making routine visits to my vessel's crash site, visitations doubled almost overnight.

Considering the force of the impact, the Quester was in surprisingly good shape, but I held no illusions she'd ever fly again. The damage was far too extensive not to mention the materials and manufacturing techniques necessary to repair her were unknown on Pern. To my amazement, the reaction controls did contain some residual propellants, justifying my warnings to Sebell, but it really surprised me since I was so sure I'd used them all up just getting to Pern. Well, they wouldn't do me any good now, so I quickly and safely disposed of them.

One day when I went out to see what I could salvage from my craft, Ryeena came along to get a better look

"Is this it?" she asked, examining the coldsleep chamber. "Doesn't look very comfortable."

"Enough for the job it does," I chuckled.

"How does it work?" she wondered.

"Well, first the occupant must be injected with a special sleep-inducing medication," I explained, pulling out a vial of the drug. "It has to be measured precisely according to the person's weight. Once they've taken the drug, they enter the chamber, close it, and activate the controls. The drug slows the body's metabolism to just about nil, then the cold sustains the sleep while preserving the body at the same time."

"Show me," she begged, taking my hands. "Put me to sleep."

I whirled, staring at my young friend, eyes enormous with horror. "You can't be serious!"

"I'm not afraid," she said.

She wasn't. I could see it in her eyes.

"Ryeena, this isn't a toy!" I protested, moving over to the coldsleep chamber.

"I know," she said, smiling as she took my hands again. "Please?"

Fear for Ryeena's safety warred with the entreaty on her face and in her eyes. It was a brief skirmish. Fear won.

"Ryeena," I sighed, shaking my head for emphasis. "Your uncle would have my head if anything happened to you. It's one thing to use it to traverse great distances or to save a life, but quite another to do it on a whim. I'm sorry, but the answer's no."

The walk back to Holder Gerrald's cot was a quiet one, not a word exchanged between us.

That evening, I stopped by the kitchen to give Lady Nylene a hand with the meal preparations.

"Dinner's just about ready, John," she said, looking over my shoulder. "What did you call this again?"

"On Earth, they call it 'mashed potatoes'," I explained, giving the mixture a final whipping. "It goes great with a variety of toppings: butter, gravy …"

"Mmm!" Nylene hummed, licking her lips. "Sounds delicious. I'll set this on the table. Why don't you call the others?"

As I passed through the sitting room, I spotted Bolter curled up on the sill peering out the window. A few of the younger children were in the sleeping chambers, so I herded them out to the table.

"Food's ready, Holder Gerrald," I told him, sending the children along as he came through the front door.

"Ah, good!" he said, brushing the dirt from his pants. "I'm famished!"

"And the other children?"

"Should be along any moment," he answered, peering past Bolter out the window.

"Holder Gerrald, have you seen Ryeena? She wasn't back in the sleeping quarters with the other children."

"No, I haven't. And she wasn't out in the fields, I can tell you that."

"Where could she have gone off to?" I wondered.

A sorrowful moan from the windowsill sent a chill colder than deep space ripping up and down my spine.

"What's with him?" Gerrald asked.

"Bolter?" I called to Ryeena's little friend.

The little dragon leaped into the air, chittering hysterically as he blurred about my head. Stark terror … an all-consuming fear for Ryeena's life burst from him, seizing my heart in an icy fist.

"Bolter, where's Ryeena?" I asked, somehow snaring her tiny friend mid-flight.

His eyes were pure yellow, whirling feverishly with fright as I held him up before me. He glanced out the window, tiny body trembling uncontrollably, and I gasped, caught off-guard by an intense mental image of the Quester.

Attracted by the commotion, Nylene came in from the cooking area. "Gerrald, what's …" but a warning hand from her husband cut her off.

"The Quester?" I pondered, gazing out the window. "But what …"

Chirruping frantically, Bolter turned to me. I staggered as a powerful image flashed through my mind … of Ryeena standing next to the coldsleep tank.

"No!" I hissed, my knees nearly buckling beneath me. "Bolter, you've got to stop her!"

Wailing low and long, Ryeena's tiny friend buried his head against my arm. He'd already tried!

"John, what's going on?" Gerrald demanded, coming closer. "Has something happened to Ryeena?"

I never heard his question. A terrifying numbness had swept over me, chilling me to the marrow, my heart clutched painfully in an icy fist of unspeakable dread.

"Ryeena!" I gasped, the ache in my heart making breathing difficult. "Ancestors, NOOOOOOOOO!"

Returning from the fields, the other children were startled to hear my anguished cry from inside the cot. They jumped as I burst out the front door. They scattered in all directions as I launched myself over their heads, flipping in midair to land in a crouch just beyond them before taking off at a dead run toward the Quester's crash site. Bolter arrowed out the open door right behind me, chirruping frantically, his tiny wings beating hard with the effort to keep up with me.

"RYYYYEEEEEEEENNNAAAAAA!" was the last sound anyone heard as Bolter and I vanished over the rise.

"Shells, look at him go!" Varla exclaimed as the rest of the family poured onto the porch.

"Dad, what's going on?" Bellar worriedly inquired.

"I don't know, son," Gerrald replied, staring at the rise. "Something's happened to Ryeena."

"Gerrald, I'm frightened!" Nylene said, seizing his arm.

"Nowhere near as much as John, I fear," Gerrald replied, his own face anxious as he looked off in the direction Bolter and I had disappeared. "Whatever's happened, Nylene, if it has anything to do with his ship, John's the best chance Ryeena has."

"But, can't we do something?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Yes," Gerrald responded, turning to the children. "Varla, take a runner. Get over to Messan's. Tell him there's trouble out at John's ship. Have him bring every spare man he can find!"

"Yes, sir!" his daughter responded, dashing for the runners' shed.

"Nylene, stay here with the other children," Gerrald ordered, giving her a quick hug. "Mostef, Bellar, come with me. John may need our help!"

"Yes, sir!" the two eldest boys chimed as one, following their father at a sprint to the runners' shed.

Pure adrenaline surged through my bloodstream. From the moment I'd left the cothold, my hellish, blistering pace never slowed. Fear for Ryeena's life drove me; my only concern to reach the Quester, and Ryeena, in time. Bolter winged along overhead, calling out encouragement. I could sense his fear just as I'd done that day at the Harper Hall, and it spurred me to a faster pace, all the while praying to my most revered ancestors that Bolter would not lose his dearest friend this day.

After what seemed like forever, the Quester's crash site finally came into view. But in my mad dash to reach Ryeena in time, I'd used up nearly all my strength. Too weak to slow down, I slammed bruisingly hard into the closed entry hatch. Dazed by the impact, it took me several moments fumbling with the controls before the hatch finally slid open and I tumbled through.

Too weak to stand, I dragged myself across the deck to the coldsleep tank. Bolter was perched atop it, calling frantically to me. I paused a moment to catch my breath. Then, my shoulder braced against the tank's sleek metal side, I managed to slither my way up to a standing position. My trembling knees gave way, sending me sprawling across the top of the tank, face-to-face with Ryeena's pale, unmoving form within.

"No!" I sobbed, my tears splattering on the transparent plas-steel viewport. "Ryeena, why?"

Bolter joined me there, peering in at his young friend. He trilled forlornly, nuzzling my cheek.

The vial of coldsleep medication was lying nearby along with a spent syringe. But how much had she used?

"Ancestors, please!" I prayed, activating the tank's shutdown sequence.

"Look!" Mostef called out as he and Gerrald reined their runners to a halt beside the Quester. "The door's open!"

Bellar trailed behind them, leading Kismet by the reins. Gerrald was off his runner and through the hatch before the dust could even settle.

"He's here!" he called back over his shoulder before rushing over to my trembling form huddled on the floor. "John, where's Ryeena?"

I couldn't answer. I was too busy spewing all over the floor.

"By the Egg of Faranth!" Mostef exclaimed as he entered. "He got here ahead of us? And on foot?"

"Yes, and ran himself sick doing it," Gerrald added, one arm draped comfortingly across my shoulders. "John, where's Ryeena?"

Feebly, I gestured toward the tank.

"Father, in here, look!" Mostef pointed, peering past Bolter's tiny body through the plas-steel viewport.

"Ryeena!" Gerrald gasped, his voice hushed.

"She's so pale!" Mostef whispered.

"We've got to get her out of there!" Gerrald exclaimed, searching about for something to open the tank with.

Finding a long piece of torn bulkhead, he came at the tank, ready to smash the controls.

"Father, no!" Mostef objected, grabbing his arm. "We don't know what it'd do to Ryeena!"

"We can't just leave her in there!"

Feeling a hand on his leg, Gerrald looked down to see me gesturing for him to wait.

"Already … already activated … shutdown," I gasped as Gerrald and Mostef helped me over to a seat. "Tank'll open automatically … in a few minutes."

"John, what is that thing?" Gerrald inquired, thumbing in its direction.

"Coldsleep chamber," I moaned, hugging my stomach to ward off more nausea.

"What you used to get here?!" Mostef exclaimed, eyes wide in shock.

I nodded.

"I think you'd better start explaining, John," Gerrald demanded, his face drawn with worry.

"No time," I argued, scrawling a brief message on a scrap of paper. "Bolter!"

Ryeena's little friend flitted over to my upraised arm.

"Take this … to Silvina," I instructed him, handing him the folded scrap as I concentrated on the image of the Harper Hall headwoman. "To Silvina. Understand?"

Bolter glanced briefly at the scrap in his forepaws then chirped an affirmative. At that same instant, the tell-tales on the coldsleep tank began chiming a warning as the hatch slowly hissed open.

"Hurry!" I told the little dragon, flinging him into the air.

With a reassuring trill, Ryeena's little friend winked _between_.

Outside, the thundering of hooves and the creaking moans of a wagon let us know that reinforcements had arrived.

"Gerrald!"

"In here, Messan!" he called out as he and Mostef helped me to stand.

Several people, Varla and Holder Messan in the lead, entered through the open hatch.

"We came as soon as we could," Messan said as he came over. "Now what's all this about Ryeena and …"

Messan gasped, all the newcomers did, freezing in their tracks as they spied Ryeena's pale form lying motionless in the open tank, ghostly tendrils of water vapor trailing down its sides.

"Ryeena!" was Varla's scarcely heard whisper as she slowly approached the coldsleep tank. "John, what's happened to her?"

"Home," I mumbled, closing my eyes against another wave of dizziness and nausea.

"Home?" Mostef wondered aloud. "What about home?"

"Get … get her home," I finally managed through clenched teeth, gesturing feebly in Ryeena's direction.

"Then what?" Gerrald anxiously queried.

"Bed," I told him, between slow deliberate breaths. "Put her … to bed. Bundle warmly. Help … coming. Hurry!"

"You heard him!" Messan said. "Jode, bring those covers from the wagon. We can use them to bundle Ryeena in!"

As Gerrald and his son helped me outside, Messan and the others gingerly removed Ryeena from the tank, bundling her tightly in the covers from the wagon.

"We'll need someone to hold onto her on the trip back," Messan spoke as I was being helped into the back of the wagon.

"I'll do it," Mostef offered, hopping into the wagon.

"No," Gerrald disagreed as he took Ryeena's nearly mummified body from Messan's arms, "it'll have to be John."

"But, Holder Gerrald …" I protested.

"You have to, John," he said, passing Ryeena up to Mostef's waiting arms. "If something goes wrong, only you understand what's happened and can possibly help her."

Tears welled in my eyes as Mostef gingerly laid Ryeena's frail form on my lap.

"Varla, you and Mostef ride with John," Gerrald said, boosting his daughter into the wagon. "Make sure they don't fall out."

"Yes, Daddy," she said, settling to my one side while Mostef took the other.

"Quickly, now!" Gerrald ordered, mounting his runner. "Back to the cot!"

Meanwhile, many kilometers away, chaos filled the usually peaceful corridors of the Harper Hall.

"Shards of a dragon's egg!" complained Master Jerint as he emerged from his workshop. "What is that infernal caterwauling?!"

"Someone's fire lizard is loose in the Hall," Abuna tartly remarked. "One of Menolly's, no doubt."

"No, this one's a stranger," a young journeywoman remarked. "Only, I think I've seen it before!"

"Do you know whose it is, Audiva?" Sebell inquired as he and Silvina joined the threesome.

"Well, I'm not sure," she mused, running her fingers across her lips. "It was about five or six sevendays ago as I was getting ready for that trip to the Gather at Lemos Hold." Fingers snapping, eyes lighting up, she exclaimed, "Now, I remember! It was right around the time that traveler from Earth arrived!"

"And the fire lizard rampaging through the Hall," Silvina spoke as she and Sebell exchanged startled glances, "has anyone seen what color it is?"

"Me!" Audiva replied, grinning broadly as she thumbed her chest. "It was a brown!"

"Bolter!" Sebell concluded.

"The little rascal came right up to my face," Audiva said, smiling, "looked me over a bit, then took off again."

But Sebell and Silvina were already heading out the door to the courtyard. Curious, Audiva hurried after them.

"There!" Sebell cried, pointing skyward to the frantically creeling little dragon circling high above. "Kimi, see if he'll come down to us."

Chirping her understanding, Sebell's queen uncurled her tail from his neck then leaped skyward. There was a brief flurry of acrobatics as the two met and Kimi tried to calm Bolter down. With a final commanding squawk, she got his attention, and the two hovered briefly in midair. That's when Bolter finally spotted the Harper headwoman below. With a trill of delight, he dove straight at her.

Fearing injury, Silvina raised her arm defensively, but Bolter broke his plummeting descent at the last second, backwinging to a gentle landing on her forearm.

"Well! You're a long way from home, little one," Silvina said, stroking Bolter's headknobs. "What brings you to the Harper Hall?"

Her question triggered a frantic barrage of trills, chirrups, and anxious creelings as the little dragon held the scrap of paper out to her.

"A message?" Sebell inquired as Silvina unfolded the scrap.

"It's from John," she told him, her expression turning suddenly serious as she read the note. "Something's happened to Ryeena. He's asking for a healer to come right away!"

"Audiva, find Menolly," Sebell directed the harper journeywoman. "If anything happens to her 'special apprentice', she'll want to be there!"

"Yes, Master!" Audiva responded, taking off at a run.

"Silvina, find Oldive," Sebell told her as he took off in the opposite direction. "Tell him to bring his riding furs!"

"And where are you off to?" Silvina called after him.

"To bespeak the watch dragon and see if he can arrange a ride!" Sebell answered, disappearing out the archway.

"You can let go now, John," Varla spoke, pulling on my arm. "We're home!"

"What?" I said, looking up.

"We're home," Varla replied, pointing to the cot just beyond Messan and the others gathered at the back of the wagon.

The return to Gerrald's cot had been breakneck and jarring. Terrified she might be hurt by all the bouncing, I had clutched Ryeena's unconscious form tightly to my chest. Now, as I slowly released her, everyone could see the dark splotch on the covers near Ryeena's head, a spot soaked through with the tears I'd wept during the journey, tears that continued to fall as Ryeena was carried inside.

"By the First Egg, Holder Gerrald, what have I let happen?" I wailed, my breathing ragged around my sobs as he and Mostef knelt beside me.

"You didn't know, John," Gerrald replied, a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"I told her 'No'," I sobbed. "Why didn't she listen?"

"Ryeena can be stubborn when she puts her mind to it," Mostef told me, grinning weakly.

"What's done is done, John," Gerrald said, squeezing my shoulder. "Right now, we need you and your special knowledge."

I looked up, tears continuing to fall from my face.

"She needs you, John … even more than you needed her. Come on."

Inside, Nylene and the other children had put Ryeena to bed, stripping off the wagon covers and tucking her tightly under several sleeping furs.

"Gerrald, she's so pale!" Nylene murmured as I was helped to a chair next to the bed. "And so cold!"

"She'll be okay, won't she, John?" little Trillene pleaded, tugging on my sleeve.

"I …" Every face in the room was anxious, looking to me for hope. "I don't know," I sobbed, burying my face in my hands. "Honored ancestors, I just don't know!"

Outside, Holder Messan's men stood in awe as an enormous bronze dragon suddenly appeared from _between_ , backwinging to a landing a short distance away. His passengers quickly disembarked, including the dragon's rider, and the group hurried into the cot following a tiny brown arrow winging along ahead of them.

Ecstatic chittering startled everyone as Bolter burst into the room. With an excited trill, he backwinged to my shoulder. "Bolter! Did you bring …"

I never finished the question for Master Oldive rushed into the room followed by Menolly, her fair of fire lizards swirling in through the open window, Silvina, and …

"Weyrleader N'ton!" I gasped, staring at the bronze rider.

"We came as soon as we got your message, John," he said, crossing to shake my hand. "What happened?"

"Ryeena tried to put herself in coldsleep."

"The hypothermia you mentioned," Master Oldive commented as he set his healer's bag on a nearby table. "And the possible drug overdose?"

"A special medication must be taken before entering coldsleep," I explained, "but it has to be measured precisely according to a person's weight. Ryeena injected herself with the drug, but I have no way of knowing how much she used."

"What are the drug's effects?" Master Oldive inquired as he pulled back the furs to examine Ryeena.

"Complete systemic suppression," I answered, drawing a startled glance from the Masterhealer, "heart rate, respiration, metabolism, brain activity, everything … reduced to near zero. The drug also acts to prevent cellular degeneration during coldsleep providing a synergistic effect to the cold's natural preservative power."

"Quite a potent drug," Oldive commented, setting Ryeena's wrist down. "Any limits to coldsleep duration?"

"Theoretically, none," I replied, earning another startled glance. "The longest recorded case of coldsleep I'd heard about was 265 years … uh, Turns."

The Masterhealer of Pern let out a long whistle of astonishment even as the room filled with anxious murmurs from the others.

 _Will the young one go between?_

There was no mistaking the worry and concern in the dragon's voice, causing the breath to catch in my throat.

A gentle hand touched my shoulder. Looking up, I found Silvina there.

"John?" she whispered, kneeling beside me. I turned away, not meeting her eyes. "Is it Lioth?"

She felt my shoulder muscles tense at the mention of N'ton's dragon and watched as my head bent forward.

"He's worried about Ryeena," I replied in hushed tones that only she'd hear.

"Is that what he said?"

"Not exactly." When I hesitated, Silvina placed a warm hand on my cheek and turned my face to her. Tears fell from my eyes as I whispered, "He wanted to know if Ryeena would go _between_."

"John, don't you think it's time someone knew?"

"Silvina, no, please!" I begged her, eyes wide with fright as I furtively glanced about.

Tenderly, the Harper Hall headwoman took my hands, searching my face for some clue to my fear. In the end, she merely smiled and patted my hands.

"John," Master Oldive called out to me, interrupting our exchange and recalling me to the present crisis, "with Ryeena's bodily functions so depressed by the medication, all the traditional vital signs are useless. Is there any way you know of that we can monitor her progress?"

"Without the sophisticated technomeds of a modern hospital, no," I muttered, tears forming again.

"Maybe we do," Menolly countered, setting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"How?" I asked, blinking back tears.

"Look," she said, pointing to Bolter curled up beside Ryeena's head. "See his color? It's a little faded, but not much. If Ryeena had gone _between_ , he'd be almost gray … and lifeless!"

"Then, somehow, he must be able to tell Ryeena's still alive!" N'ton exclaimed, excitement in his voice. "Like a dragon can sense his rider!"

"So by monitoring Bolter's color, we can indirectly keep an eye on Ryeena's condition," Oldive concluded, smiling as he caught some of N'ton's excitement. "John, is there anything we can do to expedite her return to consciousness?"

"All we can do for her right now is treat her for hypothermia," I told him, "and the best way to do that is with a heat donor."

"A what?" Messan inquired, confused.

"A healthy individual who transfers his or her own body heat through direct skin-to-skin contact with the victim," Oldive explained.

"Now there's something I can help with," Menolly announced, moving over beside the bed, her fair swirling noisily about her. "This bunch is always looking for an excuse to cuddle close. This time, some good may come of it! Beauty!"

After a brief spate of chirps and trills from the queen, instructions I gathered, Menolly's fair dove under the sleeping furs. There were several loud squawks of protest, a couple of the fire lizards darting back out as they discovered just how cold Ryeena's body was, but after a severe scolding from Beauty, they all returned under the covers, snuggling up close to Ryeena's unmoving form.

"John, what if Varla and I got in there, too?" Trillene asked, pointing at the bed. "Would that help?"

"Us?!" Varla yelped.

"John would do it," Trillene said, pointing at me. "You can see it on his face!"

"Wait!" N'ton interrupted. "If it's body heat you need, how about Lioth?"

"Your dragon?!" Gerrald spluttered.

"Why not?" N'ton replied. "There's been many a time Lioth and I have slept together outdoors away from our Weyr, and even on cold nights, I've never lacked for warmth."

"We wouldn't want to keep you from any Weyr business, bronze rider," I said, trying to hide my nervousness.

"We came to help, John," N'ton assured me, stepping up to the foot of Ryeena's bed. "There are more than enough riders in the Weyr to cover my absence."

"It's a marvelous idea, John, don't you see?" Menolly added, offering encouragement. "We could bundle Ryeena in the furs, the two girls could stay with her to make sure she's comfortable, Lioth would provide most of the warmth, and Beauty's fair can fill in the gaps!"

 _I want to help_ , was Lioth's comment.

"My dragon's willing, John," the Fort Weyrleader reported. "What do you say?"

The faces around me were a mix of emotions. Holder Gerrald and his family - worried. Master Oldive - guarded but hopeful. Harper Menolly and her fair of fire lizards - smiling encouragement. N'ton - confident and eager. And Silvina - patiently serene.

I glanced over at Bolter curled up on the pillow next to Ryeena's head. He looked at me, trilling a quiet 'Please?'

"A very gracious offer, Lord N'ton," I finally said, bowing my head to him. "We all thank you. Please, make it so."

With many hands to help, Ryeena was rushed outside to the waiting Lioth. Once there, Varla and Trillene joined her under the sleeping furs to make sure she would be warm and comfortable. Then, the mighty bronze dragon curled protectively about them. Once everyone was comfortably situated, Menolly's fire lizards wormed their way under the sleeping furs, filling the gaps left between Lioth, Varla, and Trillene. Unwilling to go near N'ton's dragon, I watched all the activity from the relative safety of the little cot's porch railing.

"We've done everything we could, John," Master Oldive said as he and the others returned to the cot. "It's up to her, now."

"Will she be alright, John?" Nylene inquired, touching my forearm.

I looked down at her hand then to Bolter who'd taken up residence on my shoulder, his tail twined gently about my neck.

"Bolter's color is still good, Lady Nylene," I said, managing a weak smile, "so I'm hopeful. Only time will tell now."

"Thanks, John," she said, smiling as she kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Thanks for caring so much about her."

Such a simple gesture, but it filled my heart with such aching that it brought tears to my eyes.

"If any thanks are owed, my lady," I countered, "they belong to those who came to our aid so quickly."

"Well said, John," Holder Gerrald spoke, stepping to the rail. "We were preparing to sit down to the evening meal if any of you would care to join us."

"While I would dearly love to, Gerrald," Messan replied, smiling, "I've my own hold to tend to." Then, chuckling, he added, "And if I miss another meal my good wife worked so hard to prepare, she'll have me Threaded for sure!"

This made everyone laugh; I even managed a weak smile.

"Things look like they're under control here, so I'd best be getting back. Please let me know how everything turns out."

"Given the way John can roar when he's excited," Bellar teased, a wicked grin on his face as my own turned thoroughly crimson, "I'm betting all of Pern will know when Ryeena pulls through!"

Everyone laughed, N'ton clapping me companionably on the back. Even Lioth rumbled with amusement, and I felt as if the blush in my cheeks had spread to my toes!

"Then, I'll see you in the fields on the morrow!" Gerrald called out as Holder Messan and his men headed home. "Safe journey!"

When Messan and his men had gone, Gerrald turned to his remaining visitors.

"Weyrleader, we owe you, all of you," and his gaze swept the others as well, "a debt we can never hope to repay. Whatever I have is yours."

"No, good holder," N'ton said, thumping him on the shoulder, "the debt was the Weyr's to repay." This brought Gerrald up short, staring, his mouth hanging open. "It is well known among the Dragonriders that those residing in Misty Hold have tithed loyally and well, doing their duty to the Weyrs, and for that, we are grateful."

Poor Gerrald looked as if he couldn't decide between fainting or busting with pride.

"We in the Healer Hall are equally in your debt," Oldive commented, "for some of the herbs we use in our medicines come from Misty Hold."

"So let there be no more talk of debts owed and paid," Menolly chimed in.

"All but one …" N'ton spoke grimly, arms crossed on his chest.

Gerrald flinched. Nylene gasped.

"Well, I did miss my own evening meal, …" the Fort Weyrleader chuckled, smiling warmly as Gerrald and the other relaxed.

"You are welcome to all we have, Dragonrider," Nylene offered, grinning shyly as she took her husband's arm, "though it may not be as good as what you're used to."

"According to your niece, Lady Nylene, yours is the finest cooking on all of Pern," Silvina remarked, to which Nylene graciously blushed. "She raved about it constantly during her stay at the Harper Hall. I think it's time we found out if there's any truth to that claim!"

"Please, …" Gerrald begged, gesturing for their guests to precede him into the cot.

"John?" Silvina had held back while the others retired inside.

"I have to stay to keep an eye on her," I said, not taking my eyes off the recumbent Lioth. "Please, go inside and enjoy yourself. The food _is_ as good as Ryeena claims."

Silvina turned me to face her.

"You know they'll find out one day," she told me, caring concern in her eyes. "Why are you so frightened by it?"

"I … have my reasons, Silvina," I replied, turning away as I stepped over to the railing. "Please don't ask me further."

"As you wish," she sighed, a comforting hand on my shoulder. "What you possess is an exceedingly rare gift, John. Always remember that you have friends who'll understand."

With that, she turned and went inside.

"No, Silvina," I whispered, tears rolling down my cheeks, "I doubt any of you could possibly understand."

Laughter echoed from within the cot while I maintained my vigil. About an hour later, Nylene came out carrying a tray of food. One of the fosterlings followed behind her, struggling to carry a large bowl filled with freshly cut meat.

"Thought you might be hungry, John," she said.

"Indeed I am, Lady Nylene," I replied, eyeing the tray and bowl, "though I doubt I could possibly eat all of that!"

"Well, you're not the only one out here who's hungry," Nylene giggled, glancing over at Lioth and his special guests. "Lord N'ton asked if you'd be kind enough to feed his dragon while you tend Trillene and Varla."

My heart leaped so quickly to my throat, I nearly choked. To feed Lioth, I'd have to …

 _Food?_ the mighty bronze rumbled, his thoughts filled with anticipation as he turned ruby red eyes our way.

"What he asks is a great honor, John," Nylene said, holding the tray out to me. "Please? I must get back to our guests."

 _Humph,_ Lioth snorted, his attention fixed on us. _I was hoping for a fat, juicy buck._

"As you wish, my lady," I replied, gulping loudly as I took the food tray and bowl.

I had no choice now. To refuse would be to insult the Dragonrider, shame my gracious hosts, and embarrass my friends from the Harper Hall.

"Thanks, John," Nylene said, smiling as she took the fosterling's hand. "We'll check on you in a little while to see if you need anything else."

The child in tow, Nylene returned inside as I slowly made my way down the porch steps.

"Anyone hungry?" I called as I came up to the girls.

"Starving!" Trillene exclaimed, nearly swallowed up by the sleeping furs. "Anything good?"

"Meatrolls," I replied, holding the tray out, allowing Varla and Trillene to help themselves, "and a bubbly pie or two, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yumm!" Varla hummed, licking her lips as she grabbed some of the meatrolls and handed them to Trillene before taking her own.

Huddled between the two girls, Ryeena lay pale and motionless amidst the sleeping furs and fire lizards. They'd stopped their complaints, so it was reasonable to assume her body temperature was rising. Bolter's color was still good, another hopeful sign.

"Hold on to this for me, will you, Varla?" I asked, handing the food tray to her. "Lord N'ton has asked me to bring his friend an evening snack."

I held the bowl up for her to see.

"Wow!" Varla sighed, glancing about at the bronze curled around the three of them. "Wish I could help!"

"We'll save a couple of the meatrolls for Ryeena, John," Trillene said, nodding at her cousin.

"Thanks, Trillene," I said with a grin, hefting the bowl of meat as I moved around to feed Lioth.

 _About time!_ N'ton's dragon grumbled, but his muzzle stopped just short of the bowl as our eyes met. _You!_

Startled by Lioth's unexpected reaction, the bowl slipped from my hands, clattering noisily to the ground, the contents spilling everywhere. Bolter let out a squawk of surprise, launching himself from my shoulder as I took an involuntary backward step.

 _No, wait!_

I felt like I was being torn in half! Ruth had been bad enough. He was smaller. Now, I was face-to-face with a massive bronze dragon, one of those who'd sensed my gift that day I'd first met the Dragonriders of Pern. Terrified, I was ready to bolt as fast as my legs would carry me. At the same time, fear for Ryeena's life held me rooted to the spot. I had to stay to be sure she would be alright. Sobbing, I collapsed to my knees, covering my head with my arms.

I was sure N'ton would be showing up at any moment, but his dragon said nothing. Instead, Lioth gently nudged my shoulder, rumbling quietly. Slowly, hesitantly, I looked up … into one massive dragon eye whirling slowly orange with concern. As I searched each of its many facets, I saw my own reflection but no hint of trouble. Closing my eyes, I heaved an enormous sigh as I fought to slow my wildly pounding heart.

 _I can't keep going like this,_ I thought, shaking my head. _Maybe Silvina's right. Maybe I should tell someone._

Eyes popping open, I suddenly remembered the dropped bowl. Much of the meat was covered with dirt, filthy and beyond what I considered fit for consumption. What few scraps remained untouched wouldn't even make a meal for someone as small as Bolter. Sick with self-reproach, I faced the mighty bronze.

"Noble Lioth, I am sorry," I said aloud, scooping the spoiled meat into the bowl. "My carelessness has ruined your food." Bowl in hand, I stood and headed for the cot. "I'll see if I can find you something else," I called back over my shoulder.

 _Wait_ , he quietly rumbled. _Let me see_.

Turning back, I held the bowl out for him to inspect. Lioth snorted with surprise, his eyes whirling with excitement as he whiffled me up and down. I nearly dropped the bowl a second time, hands trembling, eyes wide in shock, heart pounding beneath my ribs as I realized, with that one simple act, I'd given myself away.

"So, it is true," a quiet voice behind me spoke, nearly making me jump out of my skin!

"N'ton!" I gasped, the Fort Weyrleader and Silvina standing there, silently regarding me. Blood roared in my ears, the ground swaying beneath my feet. "Weyrleader, I …"

Silvina deftly retrieved the bowl from my fingers before I could drop it a second time while N'ton quietly urged me to sit. I sank weakly to the ground, feeling ready to faint.

"You told him?" I managed, overcome by a sense of betrayal. "Silvina, why? I asked you not to …"

"Not to worry, John," N'ton assured me, giving my shoulder a gentle yet firm squeeze. "Silvina swore Lioth and I to absolute secrecy before letting us in on your remarkable gift. She's your friend. We all are, and we're concerned about you."

"John, please talk to us," Silvina quietly begged, her eyes full of entreaty. "We want to understand and try to help you."

"T'ledon?" the bronze rider inquired.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

"But that wasn't the first time, was it?" asked Silvina.

"Not the first?" N'ton pondered, noting Silvina's sly grin. "But when …" He gasped, turning abruptly to stare at me. "The Harper Hall! The day we first met you! You heard Mnementh?!"

"And Ramoth," I gulped, my heart fluttering beneath my ribs, "and all the others."

"John," Silvina softly spoke, taking my hands in hers, "what happened with Serith?"

At the mere mention of T'ledon's lifemate, I tried to pull away. But, N'ton's firm hand on my shoulder, Silvina's gentle but equally firm grasp on my hands, and Lioth's massive head behind me kept me seated.

"John, please," N'ton implored. "We want to help you."

"I … I was …" I began, stammering in my nervousness, "curious."

"About what?" Silvina wondered.

"My being able to hear dragons," I muttered, eyes downcast. "Was the link two-way? I had to find out, so I … I …"

"Tried speaking to Serith," N'ton finished for me, "with your mind, like a dragonrider!"

Gulping loudly, I nodded.

 _No wonder Serith was excited!_

"Yes," N'ton said, scratching his dragon's muzzle, "and now we know why."

"Weyrleader, you've got to believe me!" I beseeched him, trying to back away only to be nudged by Lioth. "I had no idea he'd react so strongly!"

"Well, as you pointed out, John," Silvina commented, grinning in wry amusement, "no real harm was done."

"What I don't understand is why you've kept silent all this time," N'ton remarked, his brows furrowed. "The gift you possess is exceedingly rare and highly prized here on Pern. Why are you so afraid that someone will find out?"

This time, I _did_ pull free of Silvina's grasp, not to run but to hug myself against the violent tremors that shook my body, brought on by a deeply buried, nearly forgotten nightmare from my past.

"It was … many Turns ago," I whispered, shudders running unchecked up and down my spine, "during my younger days at the Academy. Several of my friends and I were undergoing testing for any latent psionic abilities."

"Psionic?" Silvina inquired, the word unfamiliar to her.

"Powers of the mind," I explained, "telepathy, empathy, telekinesis. There are some races in the universe who use them as a means of communication almost to the exclusion of speech. As part of a first contact team, such abilities could prove invaluable establishing relations with a new race. When I learned the results of my own screening, I was devastated. Not one of the tests that they had put me through hinted at even a trace of psionic ability. Which is why I was so startled that day I first heard Mnementh."

"Still, that doesn't explain why you're so fearful," Silvina pointed out.

"My friend …" I muttered, the tremors continuing unchecked, "he wasn't much to look at: small, scrawny, not very strong. But he was hard-working and friendly, and his psionics screening produced some of the highest ratings the Academy had seen in decades! Seems he already possessed telepathic, empathic, and telekinetic abilities but didn't know it. No one had ever shown him how to use them properly. Sadly, those same abilities made others at the Academy bitterly jealous and resentful of him."

"Jays!" Silvina gasped, noting my sudden pallor. "This has something to do with your friend, doesn't it?"

I nodded. "We found derogatory words marked on the walls of his room, his locker, practically anywhere he went. We told the staff at the Academy about it, but no one paid any heed. Then came the threatening messages and the calls in the middle of the night. Still no one would listen. One afternoon as we were walking home, we were attacked. They … they killed him, beating him … beating him to a bloody pulp, screaming slurs and derogatory remarks all the while. They nearly killed me, too, just because I was with him. I ended up with six broken ribs, a broken leg, and a fractured skull. They left us lying in the dirt, certain we were both dead. Somehow, I managed to drag myself over to my friend's body. He was alive when I reached him, but he died, cradled in my arms, and all I could do was watch helplessly. The last thing he said before Death closed his eyes was 'Why?'"

"By the shards of my dragon's egg!" N'ton whispered, stunned by such brutality.

"I've been terrified of the same thing happening to me if anyone ever learned what I could do," I whimpered, dashing tears from my eyes.

"Oh, John," Silvina sniffed, tears in her own eyes as she hugged my trembling body to her, "we had no idea!"

"Shells, no wonder you've been so secretive," N'ton said, offering comfort.

 _Scorch 'em all if I could,_ rumbled Lioth, a small tongue of flame escaping from lips parted over fearsome-looking teeth.

It was all I needed to snap me out of my depression.

"Oh, Lioth," I laughed, giving the great bronze a fierce muzzle hug, "were they to get a look at you, they'd have all messed in their pants and would probably still be running for their lives!" Abruptly, I gasped, appalled at my forwardness, jerking away from Lioth. "Lord N'ton, I'm sorry. I didn't mean …"

"Relax, John," N'ton laughed, thumping me good-naturedly on the shoulder, "Lioth didn't mind!"

Silvina was staring, perplexed, at the two of us.

"Seems Lioth is of a mind to exact a little revenge against John's attackers if they were here," the Fort rider explained.

Bolter returned just then, landing on my shoulder, hissing in concert with his larger cousin, his talons unsheathed. "Pfiuu!" and he expelled a sizeable gout of flame; his intent, like Lioth's, very clear.

"Serve 'em right if they were!" Silvina laughed, a wink for N'ton as she squeezed my hands in a gesture of support. "Holder Gerrald tells us you outran his best runners reaching Ryeena. Why didn't you take your own?"

"At the time, I was too worried about Ryeena to think clearly," I replied. "When Bolter told me what she was doing, I …"

"Bolter _told_ you?!" N'ton sputtered, his mouth dropping open. "Shards and Shells, man, don't tell me you can speak to fire lizards, too?!"

Astride my shoulder, Bolter squawked with indignation, fanning his wings at N'ton as if to say 'Well, of course, he can!'

"Only Ryeena's so far," I quietly replied, averting my eyes as I stroked Bolter's neck ridge to calm him. Being candid now seemed the best idea.

"Of course!" Silvina exclaimed, eyes glittering with excitement as she snapped her fingers. "That day you first regained consciousness … when you picked up on Bolter's fear. Oh, I should have seen it then!"

"Seen what?" I asked, confused by her excitement.

"That there was something special about you, John," Silvina replied, patting my hands.

Bolter nuzzled my cheek in agreement.

"We've long known that an individual could receive impressions from a fire lizard, but never from one that didn't look to them." She reached up to scratch Bolter's head knobs. "Now we know how you were able to send this little guy to us with the message."

"But, Silvina, that's just my point!" I said, throwing my hands up in frustration. "I can't explain where the gift came from or why I suddenly have it!"

"Maybe the … what did you call it? … screening you went through wasn't specific enough," N'ton offered. "Maybe your gift is highly selective, attuned only to dragonkind and their smaller cousins."

"It's possible," I mused, recalling some of the broad parameters used in the screening process.

Just then, I felt a disturbance in the air above us and looked up just as a second brown fire lizard appeared. The new arrival chittered angrily before finally settling to N'ton's proffered forearm.

"I know you got left behind, Tris," he apologized, stroking the little brown's neck ridge, "but it was an emergency!"

Tris was unimpressed, snorting forcefully.

"Did you see, N'ton?" Silvina excitedly inquired.

"Pardon?"

"John looked up at the same moment you did just before your little brown arrived!"

Three sets of eyes turned to regard me: N'ton, Silvina, and little Tris!

"It happened once before," I told them, gulping loudly, "at Ruatha. I felt … something … and looked up in time to see Lord Jaxom and Ruth appear above the Hold. Same thing just now."

"Astonishing!" the Fort Weyrleader whispered, absently stroking Tris' neck ridge. "I'd like to try something, John. Hold up your arm."

I did.

"Tris, go to John," N'ton said, pointing at me.

Trilling uncertainly, the little brown flitted across and landed gently on my arm.

"Now, show John our home."

Tris gave a puzzled whistle, but then turned and looked at me. The image that flooded my mind was staggering, and even seated, I rocked unsteadily, scattering Tris and Bolter as I reached out blindly for something to grab onto. Lioth's muzzle was the only thing that kept me from falling over.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I whispered, blinking my eyes as I struggled to bring them back into focus.

Firm hands grasped my shoulders, and I looked up into N'ton's anxious face. "What is it, John? What did you see?"

"A mountain …" I gasped, shaking my head to clear the fog, "seen from high above. No, not a mountain … a crater, a volcanic crater long dead. Oblong in shape, a high point at one end, and a … a landslide has collapsed the rim at the opposite end."

N'ton and Silvina exchanged excited glances while Lioth quietly hummed his elation.

"Light seems to be reflecting off a large area next to the landslide, possibly a body of water. And there are many strange openings around the walls of the crater. Curious, they're unlike any volcanic formations I've ever seen."

"That's because they're the individual dragon weyrs, carved out by our long _between_ ancestors!" N'ton exclaimed, slapping his knee. "By Faranth's Egg, Silvina!"

"Now try sending Tris an image, John," she suggested, "something that we can be sure of."

Raising my arm once again, Tris circled back down to land on it. I already had an image in mind as I stroked the little brown's head knobs to calm him, something none of them had ever seen before. The moment I projected the image, Tris' split the air with an angry shriek, launching himself so forcefully from my arm that his talons gouged deep tracks in it.

"Jays! What's going on over there?" Varla called out.

"John, is everything alright?" Trillene yelled.

I couldn't answer. I was too busy biting down on my lip against the pain. Blood oozed from under the hand I had slapped over the bleeding rips in my forearm.

"Everything's fine," Silvina called back, dabbing at the blood as N'ton tried to coax his little friend to come to him.

The commotion didn't go unnoticed in the cot, either, for the porch was soon crowded with the curious.

"What's going on?" Oldive asked as Silvina borrowed his medical bag.

"Something extraordinary," she whispered in his ear. "I'll tell you later."

"Silvina," Gerrald called out, waving to attract her attention.

"Just a minor accident, Holder Gerrald," she assured him, "nothing to fret about."

"How is Ryeena?" Nylene wondered, her expression anxious.

"Bolter's color is still good," Silvina reported, "so we're hopeful. Please try not to worry, Lady Nylene. John will do everything he can for her."

"What was that?" N'ton whispered as Silvina returned. Tris eyed me warily, hissing softly from N'ton's shoulder.

"What did he show you?" I inquired, sucking in my breath as Silvina dabbed my forearm with redwort.

"A feline!" N'ton replied, shaking his head in disbelief. "Big as a man, standing upright on two legs, and wearing clothes like a human."

I chuckled, smiling at N'ton's confusion.

"What was that?" he asked again.

"My friend, Keymon," I replied, holding a dressing in place so Silvina could bandage it.

"The one who taught you that marvelous song?" she inquired, pausing in her wrappings.

"The same." Then, to N'ton, "I had to pick something none of you had ever seen before to be sure." Looking down at my forearm, I added, "Guess I should have picked something a little less disturbing."

"How are you feeling, John," Silvina asked, tying off the bandage, "now that someone else knows about your gift?"

"Uncertain," I sighed, flexing my hand under the bandage. "I don't want Ryeena to be hurt like I was because of somebody's jealousy."

"You care that much about her?"

"She is as precious to me as if she was my own daughter, Silvina," I admitted, looking her square in the eyes.

"Things are different here, John," N'ton assured me, firmly grasping my shoulder.

"I wish I had your confidence, Weyrleader," I sighed, smiling weakly at him, "but it won't be easy getting past that memory, even with help."

"Then come back to the Weyr with me," N'ton offered. "With your special gift, you'd be more than welcome there. And who knows? You might even end up Impressing a dragon!"

Lioth nudged me briefly, rumbling encouragement.

"A most generous offer, bronze rider," I said, rising, "but, no." A hand raised begging for patience, I added, "I appreciate what you're offering, Lord N'ton, and while I can't explain it, I just don't feel the time is right yet. I want to see more of Pern before I decide where I might fit into its society."

I turned and looked out across the rolling countryside.

"I gave up everything I knew to pursue my destiny here on Pern," I sighed, gazing up at the stars, "family, friends, a job and an exciting way of life. I can never go home again. My ship is hopelessly damaged beyond repair. For better or worse, this world is my home now. The few friends I've managed to make," I turned to Silvina, N'ton, Tris, and Lioth, "and I'm thankful I can count you four among them, are very dear to me. Please try to understand why I'm reluctant to put those friendships in danger."

"We're honored you would consider us friends, John," N'ton replied, clapping me on the shoulder.

"But now, I must ask a favor of that friendship."

"We'll keep your secret, for now," Silvina said, smiling as she lightly kissed my cheek, "but if the time ever arrives when you need help …"

 _All you have to do is ask!_ Lioth rumbled emphatically, his massive eyes a caring blue-green.

N'ton chuckled at his dragon's eagerness, reaching up to scratch his eye ridge.

"With your permission, Weyrleader …" I said, gesturing toward his dragon.

N'ton nodded, and I turned to the bronze.

 _Thank you, noble Lioth,_ I wordlessly spoke, bowing to the great bronze, _and please pass on my thanks to your rider._

Once again, Lioth snorted his surprise, his eyes whirling faster with excitement. _He says 'Thank you', lifemate._ You could almost see Lioth grinning as he passed on the message.

"Showing off, John?" N'ton laughed, slapping me on the back. "Come on. Let's see how Ryeena's doing."

"AAAAHH!"

Trillene's startled scream brought all of us scurrying.

"Trillene, what is it?" I asked, peering over Lioth's protective tail.

"She moved!" Varla replied, disbelief and hope flashing across her face. "I think she moved!"

Sensing my need, Lioth's tail slowly uncurled, giving me access to the three bundled girls.

"John …" Trillene squeaked, her voice barely audible, her prayer undeniable.

My fingers found Ryeena's carotid, and for a brief moment, my heartbeat hesitated, fearful. Then, one, faint, almost indiscernible. Another, and another … pulses, life giving pulses … flowing through Ryeena's body, each one sending a wave of elation rushing through me. Tears fell unashamedly from my face, a grin spreading from ear to ear. And then, …

"She's breathing," I sobbed, overcome with joy as I watched Ryeena's chest ever so slowly rise and fall.

"John!" Trillene wept as the three of us hugged each other, the two girls joining their tears to mine.

"John, how's Ryeena?" Silvina inquired, peering over Lioth's tail.

She got her answer the moment I turned my tear-streaked beaming face to her.

"She's breathing," I told them, wiping away the tears. Then, arms raised to the stars, at the top of my lungs, I shouted, "SHE'S BREATHING!"

Lioth's timing was perfect, his ecstatic dragon keening blending with my shout, the two echoing across the rolling hills of Misty Hold.

"Told you!" Bellar guffawed, pointing as I danced giddily with anyone in reach.

"John, why hasn't she opened her eyes yet?" Nylene anxiously inquired, peering around Lioth's massive tail.

"She will, Lady Nylene," I said, hugging her tightly. "Ryeena's on the down side of the medication. It won't be much longer now!"

Master Oldive squeezed up next to Lioth to check on Ryeena.

"Pulse seems to be getting stronger," he commented absently, releasing Ryeena's wrist, "color's improving. She's breathing good. Skin's a lot warmer, too. Very encouraging!"

"You did it, John!" Holder Gerrald exclaimed, pounding me on the back.

"No, we did it," I countered, looking about me. "We all did it, all of us!"

Holder Gerrald hugged his wife, tears glittering at the corners of his eyes; the hold children couldn't stop staring at Lioth, while I shook the hands of Master Oldive, Silvina, and Weyrleader N'ton.

It happened with no warning. Without realizing when I'd started, I found myself quietly singing 'Keymon's Song'. Deep within the sleeping furs, Menolly's fair could be heard crooning along, and the looks of astonishment and delight on the faces of Varla and Trillene was absolutely priceless!

Masterharper Menolly joined her voice to mine, providing a lovely and inspired harmony. Even Bolter, perched atop my shoulder, and Beauty, astride Menolly's, were singing along, their delightful trilling providing a wondrous descant to the body of the song.

I had a suspicion about what was coming, but knowing it didn't lessen the shock. On the last verse of the song, a deep rumbling filled the air, quietly reserved yet powerful. You could feel the vibrations right down to the soles of your feet, and it drew a startled gasp from everyone who was watching. Lioth had joined the chorus, humming along with the rest of us, flabbergasting everyone including his rider. His voice was rougher than his smaller cousins. Clearly singing was something dragons normally didn't do. Still, it brought a tear to my eye for I could sense the depth of feeling he was putting behind it.

Silence fell over the cot as the song ended, and only Menolly and I seemed able to move, the others still held in thrall by the song's magic.

"Marvelous!" she sighed, staring up at the massive bronze. "A bit unschooled, perhaps," and Beauty snorted in agreement, which made Menolly laugh, "but what a sound!"

"You should have heard Lord Jaxom's Ruth that night at Ruatha Hold," I sighed, patting Lioth on the side of his head. "It left everyone breathless!"

"Really?" Menolly said, excited by the possibility. "Imagine if we could get an entire Weyr to sing along!"

"Better make sure they do it outside," I warned her, grinning. "That much vibration could bring the Weyr down about their ears!"

"A definite consideration," N'ton commented, slapping his lifemate on the neck, "seeing how no one would be wanting to move! Lioth, I didn't know you had it in you!"

 _It's a lovely song,_ the bronze rumbled, nuzzling his lifemate, _even if I can't sing very well!_

This last was aimed at Harper Menolly as Lioth regarded her. N'ton roared with laughter, pounding his dragon good naturedly while I had to disguise my own laughter with a fit of coughing lest I reveal I'd overheard.

"I think you've hurt his feelings, Harper," N'ton told her, grinning as he winked.

"Then allow me to make it up to you, noble dragon," Menolly apologized, bowing to Lioth. "Whenever you visit the Harper Hall, if you wish, I will help you improve your singing." She held her hand out, palm up, to the giant bronze. "Deal?"

Lioth regarded the harper for a long moment, then extended one forepaw, laying one of his massive talons in her outstretched hand.

"Done!" laughed N'ton, covering both hand and talon with his own hands.

"Ohhh!"

The quiet moan from the sleeping furs brought instant silence. Bolter shot from my shoulder, trilling excitedly. He hovered above the three girls, waiting expectantly.

"B … B … Bolter?"

The little brown's whistle of delight climbed dizzily up the musical scale, keeping pace with him as he spiraled higher and higher into the star-filled sky. I waved Master Oldive over, and he rushed in to check on Ryeena.

"Master Oldive?"

"Ancestors, thank you!" I whispered, sinking to my knees at the sweet sound of Ryeena's voice, tears of joy falling freely down my face.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Nylene standing there, smiling warmly at me.

"How do you feel, Ryeena?" I heard Oldive ask.

"O … okay, … I guess. Master, where's John?"

I waved for Gerrald to go to her, but he was having none of that. Helping me to my feet, he and Nylene led me over to where Ryeena was resting. At our approach, Oldive slipped aside to allow me in.

"How do you feel, Ryeena?" I asked, placing my hand on her forehead.

"A little sleepy," she replied, trying to stifle a yawn. Meekly, she asked, "You're not angry, are you?"

" _ **ANGRY?!**_ " I exploded, fury charging the air around me.

Trillene and Varla both gasped, backing away, horrified by my sudden change.

" **Angry that you went ahead with it even after I explained the hazards, even after I told you 'No'?** " I roared, my face livid. " **Angry that you frightened your aunt and uncle near to death? Angry that you worried your cousins needlessly?** "

"John, …" Ryeena pleaded, tears beginning to form.

" **Angry that Holder Messan and his men were called from their hold to help?** " I raged, gesturing wildly. " **Angry that I felt it necessary to send Bolter to the Harper Hall to fetch Master Oldive?** "

"But, John," she stammered.

" **Angry that you, Masterharper Menolly's special apprentice, brought her here with your foolishness?** " I practically screamed, glaring at her. " **Angry that it was Weyrleader N'ton himself who ferried them here on Lioth? None of this should have happened! ANGRY? BY THE EGG OF FARANTH, YOU BET I'M ANGRY!** "

"John, please!" Ryeena wailed, withering under my onslaught, tears cascading down her suddenly pale face.

"Oh, Ryeena!" I sobbed, drawing her close, hugging her trembling body tightly. "Ryeena, I am so sorry, so terribly sorry! It's just that you scared the living hell out of me with that stunt. I didn't know if you were going to live, or if you'd …"

I pulled back a bit to look at her. There were tears in both our eyes as I placed a trembling hand on her tear-soaked cheek.

"I'd die if anything ever happened to you. Promise me, please promise me you won't do anything like this again. Please?"

"I promise," she said, tears flowing as she embraced me tightly.

 _The young one will live?_

 _Yes, Lioth,_ I silently sent, _thanks to you and the others._

High overhead, the beautiful warblings of an excited fire lizard gave fair warning as, diving out of the night skies, Bolter swooped between us, chittering at the top of his lungs, broadcasting pure happiness. Ryeena giggled at her friend's antics, laughing warmly as he disheveled her hair. Then, the little brown backwinged to land on her shoulder where he lovingly wrapped his tail about her neck, head caressing her cheek as he caroled his happiness.

"I had the strangest dream just now, John," Ryeena commented, hugging Bolter's head to her.

"About what?" I asked, tilting my head to one side.

"A dragon," she replied, scratching Bolter's eye ridges, "and he was singing 'Keymon's Song'!"

"Was this dragon a bad singer?" I inquired, grinning at her.

"No!" she instantly answered, her eyes taking on a dreamy look. "It was beautiful!" Noticing the mischievous grin on my face, she asked, "What's so funny?"

"It was no dream, apprentice," Menolly said, drawing a gasp from Ryeena as she stepped into view.

"What?!"

"I can tell you it was quite a shock," N'ton said, coming up behind Menolly. "And what a song!"

Lioth swung his head into view beside his rider, and Ryeena's eyes absolutely bugged out.

 _At least somebody liked my singing,_ he rumbled, blue-green eyes regarding her.

Her eyes following the graceful curve of the dragon's neck, Ryeena gave a quiet gasp as she suddenly realized where she was. When something squirmed beneath the sleeping furs, she screamed at the top of her lungs, scattering Menolly's fair in an explosion of squawks.

"John, what …" she stammered, staring as everyone else dissolved in a fit of laughter, "what's going on?"

"Later," I chuckled, bundling her back up in the sleeping fur before picking her up. "Let's get you inside and to bed."

Once Ryeena was safely tucked away in her own bed, I left her cousins to fill her in on all that had happened while Holder Gerrald, Nylene, and I went to see our guests off.

"The food was wonderful, Holder Gerrald, Lady Nylene," Silvina praised them, "just as Ryeena said it would be."

"We're flattered you enjoyed it," Nylene replied, smiling at her husband.

"And eternally grateful to all of you for your help during this crisis," Gerrald added, shaking first Master Oldive's then N'ton's hand.

"Your knowledge of the healing arts is surprising, John, better than most," Oldive commented, nodding sagely as he regarded me. Smiling, he added, "Keep an eye on Ryeena, which I'm sure you'll do, and don't hesitate to send for us if any complications develop."

"Thank you, Master Oldive," I said, bowing gratefully to him. "I pray it will not prove necessary."

"Well, since things seem to be returning to normal around here," N'ton commented, cupping his hands to give Oldive a boost, "we'd best be on our way!"

As Master Oldive was being helped up to Lioth's back, Silvina pulled me off to one side.

"Thanks, Silvina," I said, taking her hands.

"For what?" she wondered.

"For your courage and wisdom," I replied, smiling as I kissed her hands, "for your friendship, and for giving me hope that there may be an end to the nightmare in sight."

"Oldive was right, you know," Silvina commented, squeezing my hands in a gesture of friendship, "about your knowledge of the healing arts. Perhaps it is best you have time to seek out your destiny here on Pern. But whatever happens, John, we'll be there to stand with you the day you reveal your precious gift. Till then, take good care of Ryeena."

"I will, Silvina," I assured her as I led her over to Lioth, "you have my word."

"Up you go, my lady," N'ton spoke, boosting Silvina up his dragon's side.

"Please watch over her, John," Menolly said, glancing back at the cot. "I sense a special future in store for her … and you!"

"I hope you're right, Masterharper," I replied, bending down as I cupped my hands to give her a boost.

With a practiced manner, she was astride the great bronze behind Silvina, her fair caroling noisily above her.

"Be sure to take care of that arm, John," N'ton called out as he mounted his dragon in front of his passengers, little Tris circling Lioth's head.

"I will, bronze rider," I responded, waving to him.

"And remember, if you ever need help or just want to talk to someone …"

 _All you have to do is call!_ Lioth quietly rumbled.

A soft chuckle escaped me as I reached out to pat N'ton's lifemate on the neck.

"Safe journey, Dragonrider!" I called out as I backed away. "Till we meet again!"

With a single, powerful leap, Lioth was airborne, massive gossamer wings beating strongly, propelling him and his passengers upward. Soon, all you could make out were his eyes, two luminous blue-green stars amongst the thousands in the black velvet sky. Then, abruptly, they vanished as Lioth went _between_.

"Holder Gerrald, I am profoundly sorry any of this had to happen," I apologized, turning to him and his wife. "If I'd only been more careful or insistent …"

"Mostef was right, you know …" Gerrald commented, glancing at his wife, "about Ryeena. She can be very strong-willed."

"What mattered most, John, was how much you cared about her," Nylene said, smiling as she took my arm.

"From the day her parents tragically died and she came to live with us, Ryeena's been happy enough, but never as happy as when we've seen her with you."

"Lady Nylene," I stammered, feeling a blush filling my cheeks.

"She's right, John," Gerrald sighed, nodding acceptance as he smiled at me. "Nylene and I have been her family for several Turns now, but you've accomplished what we haven't been able to. You've made her truly happy."

I turned my face away, shuffling my feet and worrying my hands as I tried to hide my embarrassment.

"Now, buck up!" he laughed, pounding me on the back. "You've a face as long as a wet Turn. C'mon, let's go see how Ryeena's doing!"

With Gerrald on one side, arm companionably across my shoulders, and Nylene arm-in-arm with me on the other, we walked back to the tiny cot and Ryeena.


	12. Chapter 12 - The Doubly Precious Gift

Chapter 12

 _ **The Doubly Precious Gift**_

DAWN BROKE CRISP AND CLEAR over the Tillek Peninsula, and Ryeena was up to greet it, fixing the morning meal and cleaning up around Holder Gerrald's cot.

"Oh! Morning, John!" she cheerily called, setting plates on the table. "Breakfast is nearly ready. Have a seat!"

"Are you feeling alright?" I inquired as I pulled out a chair.

"Of course, silly!" she answered, breezing past me to put a juice container on the table. "Now, sit before the others get here and you lose your place! I've prepared everyone's favorites! Sliced meats, baked tubers, …"

"Ryeena …"

"Fresh fruits and vegetables, bread warm from the hearth, …"

"Ryeena, …"

"Tangy fruit juices, freshly squeezed; plenty of steaming hot klah to wake everyone up, …"

"Ryeena, stop," I quietly said, taking her by the shoulders. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's the morning meal, John," she replied, looking at the table, not at me. "We always have a good breakfast before going off to the fields."

"That's not why you're doing it," I quietly spoke as I turned her face to me.

"Of course, it is!" she argued, hurrying to retrieve some bread warming by the hearth. "I was up early and just wanted to be sure … to be sure everyone had a good breakfast, that's all." Her hands were trembling as she set the loaves on the table. "I was just trying to … trying to … just …"

I handed her a bowl of fresh fruit, which she then set at the center of the table. When Ryeena turned back around, her eyes were full of tears.

"Oh, John," she wept, burying her face against my chest, "I made such a mess of things!"

"Sssshhh!" I whispered, planting a light kiss on the top of her head. "All that matters is that you're alright."

"But Master Oldive, Silvina, Masterharper Menolly," she sobbed, peering desperately up at me, "and Weyrleader N'ton! How will I ever be able to face them again?"

"They're still your friends, Ryeena," I said, smiling as I brushed the hair out of her eyes. "You made a mistake, and they understand that. Now it's up to you to learn from that mistake."

I glanced past Ryeena to the meal she'd set out on the table.

"This is a good start," I commented. "I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to everyone."

"And what about you, John?" she asked, gazing up at me, her hands trembling as she held mine. "How do I make it up to you?"

"Hmmm," I mused, rubbing my chin as I looked about me.

Ryeena stood quietly, nibbling on her lower lip and worrying her hands, her expression anxious.

"Your aunt and uncle were very worried about you," I finally said, turning to her, "more than I was because they didn't understand what was happening. If you can make it up to them, I'll be happy."

"I … I'll try, John," she managed between sniffles.

"I know you will," I said, giving her another hug. "In the meantime, I'll settle for a good breakfast … and one of your warm smiles!"

The tears she shed were happy ones this time, her smile a mix of joy and relief. But I could feel her muscles tense as sounds from the sleeping quarters let us know the others were beginning to stir. With a turn and a gentle push, I headed Ryeena off toward the kitchen before I pulled out a seat.

The delightful aroma of steaming klah soon brought the slumberers to the table, and Ryeena went right to work. All through the meal, she hovered near the table, getting fresh bread, topping off mugs of klah, or dropping another slice of meat on empty plates. Holder Gerrald caught my attention briefly, and when I nodded in the direction of the Quester, his puzzled expression changed to one of understanding, and he smiled.

There were many glowing compliments for the meal, and through it all, Ryeena smiled shyly and bowed graciously. When Holder Gerrald asked to speak to her in private, she nervously glanced my way before following him over to the window. They spoke quietly for several minutes, Ryeena nodding as they did. Occasionally, she'd lower her eyes before nodding, accepting some form of punishment was my guess. At one point, the two of them glanced my way, a shy smile briefly playing across Ryeena's lips. As I was helping Nylene remove the dishes from the table, I heard a squeal of delight and looked up in time to see Ryeena hugging her uncle about the neck. Then, without another word, she came over, took the dishes from my hands and hurried off to the kitchen, pausing briefly in the doorway to smile at me once more.

"Holder Gerrald?" I wondered aloud as Ryeena disappeared into the kitchen.

"I told her if she worked hard enough," he said, coming up beside me, "she could go with us to the Gather at Ruatha."

"And if she doesn't?" I asked.

"Then, my friend from Earth," he replied, clapping me on the back, "I fancy you'll be here keeping her company while we'll be at the Gather giving Lord Jaxom your regrets!"

I laughed as I nodded. He was right, of course. Gathering up a few more of the breakfast dishes, I hurried into the kitchen.

Whatever punishment Holder Gerrald had set for her, Ryeena worked without complaining. And always, whenever our eyes met, there was her smile, warm and open.

"Here's the water carrier you wanted, John," Gerrald said, handing me a canteen on a strap. "Taking a trip?"

"Well, seeing how today's a rest day," I explained, slinging the canteen strap over my shoulder, "I thought I'd take a hike up the coast and see some of the countryside."

"Looks like it's going to be a nice day, too," Gerrald commented, parting the curtain to gaze out the window.

"Please don't be gone too long, John," Ryeena warned me, handing me a small sack of meatrolls to take along. "Threadfall's due today."

"I'll be careful," I promised, checking the security of my holstered blaster.

Much of the Pernese wildlife was still unknown to me, so I was taking it along, just in case.

Her uncle behind her, Ryeena waved goodbye from the porch as I headed off over the hills to the northern shores of the Tillek peninsula.

The sun climbed steadily into the morning sky, the air alive with a cacophony of sounds. Cresting a rise, I spooked a wherry from hiding, sending it squawking off to another place of concealment.

"Damn," I muttered, watching it go. "They haven't gotten any prettier."

The salty tang of sea air soon filled my nostrils, and in no time, I was gazing out across the great western sea, waves lapping at my feet.

"Beautiful!" I sighed, watching the rise and curl of each wave as it raced for the shore.

Keeping the ocean to my left, I turned and headed up the coast. The sounds of the gently rolling surf were tranquilizing, reducing the passage of time to insignificance. The sun was warm, the breeze fragrant and soothing. For the moment, I hadn't a care in the world.

Occasionally, I'd break into a comfortable jog, reveling in the exertion. Waves now and then threw themselves across my path, but I'd laugh and dodge around them. Lost in the joy of the moment, I was brought up short by the sight of a river emptying into the ocean as I rounded a bend in the shoreline.

"Jays!" I swore, glancing first at the sun's position then back in the direction I'd come from. If my recollection of the Harper Hall map was accurate, I'd covered nearly 30 miles from Misty Hold. "And did it in a little under four hours!"

No doubt about it now. My recovery was complete, my strength returned.

"Thank you, Master Oldive!" I called out, saluting the direction of the Harper Hall. "It's still early," I reasoned, fording the river. "Think I'll go on a bit further before heading back."

The tide was coming in, sending waves crashing further up the beach. Reaching the river's opposite shore, I struck a bit inland, climbing to the top of a gently rising bluff so that I could get a better view of the ocean and the surrounding countryside.

"Beautiful!" I sighed, turning a full 360 degrees, my vision taking in all the wonders about me.

I paused, turning my face into the cool breeze blowing offshore, inhaling deeply of its freshness and sea odors. The river fording and climb up the bluff had rekindled my hunger, so I fished into Ryeena's pouch for the last of the meatrolls before continuing on.

The skies were clear, the weather perfect, the sea breeze refreshing. The similarity to the visions in my dreams … or of what followed … never even crossed my mind.

It was their sound that first caught my attention – the beautiful trilling and harmonious keening of many fire lizards. Excited by the possibility of actually seeing them in the wild, I froze, sinking slowly to my knees as I cautiously glanced about.

"Seems to be coming from the direction of the sea," I realized, using the surrounding brush for cover as I slowly crept towards the edge of the bluff.

As I was cautiously peering out from the cover of a stand of klah bark plants and seagrass, a tiny bronze rocket zipped by, startling me into motionless. From where I lay hidden, I couldn't see the beach below, but that didn't lessen the thrill I felt one bit. A fair of fire lizards swirled and cavorted directly in front of me, their beautiful and daring aerobatics holding me spellbound. They would soar and swirl into view then dive back down out of sight only to return moments later for another breath-taking display.

"Wait'll I tell Ryeena about this!" I sighed, contentedly.

Blues, browns, greens, and bronzes in a dizzying array flitted and soared repeatedly into view.

 _But where's the queen_ , I silently wondered.

Overcome by curiosity, I slithered up to the edge of the cliff, doing my best to keep to the cover of the klah bushes. A tiny gasp escaped my lips as I peered over the edge. There, resting languidly on the warm sands below, carefully preening herself, was the little queen. Some of her fair were frolicking noisily above her, others dropping tiny fish or an occasional spiderclaw to her as offerings, all of which she ravenously devoured. In moments, I was hopelessly captivated by all the little activities of the queen and her fair. Oh, they were beautiful to watch!

I must have lain there for nearly an hour before I noticed the curious mound of sand just to one side of the little queen. I gasped softly, the shock of comprehension hitting me like a plasma bolt.

"A fire lizard clutch!" I whispered, awed and feeling privileged to have actually seen one. "No wonder the fair sounds so pleased!"

Spiraling down from the main group, a lone bronze landed beside the queen. Gently, the pair entwined their slender necks then lovingly began to nuzzle each other.

"Must be her mate," I surmised, watching from my place of hiding. "Oh, what a splendid pair!"

More fish and spiderclaws were offered to the pair by the remaining fire lizards.

"Quite a clutch, you two," I said to myself, admiring the size of the mound. "You've both done yourselves proud!"

Abruptly, I stiffened, a kind of sixth sense warning me of danger even as my ears picked up a sound quite different from the beautiful fluting tones of the fire lizards. Glancing back over my shoulder, I spotted a small cloud of gray low on the horizon. I started, at first thinking it was a precursor of Thread, but it was far too small and off in the wrong direction.

 _Besides,_ I silently realized, _Thread doesn't move around like that, and it doesn't squawk!_

Squawk? Only one creature on all of Pern made that horrific noise.

"Wherries!" I cursed under my breath.

The first time I'd encountered 'uglies', it had been that small flock that had attacked Ryeena. This, however, was a much larger group, and it was getting closer. Ryeena had told me about their voracious appetite for fire lizard eggs, and right on the beach below was a freshly laid clutch of them.

"Gotta warn the little queen, somehow," I hissed.

One of the blues saved me the trouble. Soaring high above the rest, he spotted the approaching wherries and issued a loud warning cry. I stared at the little blue, amazed that something so small could make so much noise. The little queen responded with a questioning chirrup, and the blue dove for the beach, breaking his plummeting descent to hover directly in front of her. There was a brief exchange of excited trills and chirps, the rest of the fair growing more agitated as I watched, then the little queen turned her gaze skyward.

That was all it took. Shrieking her defiance, the little queen leaped skyward, arrowing up to intercept the approaching wherries, the rest of her fair in close pursuit. The fury with which the fire lizards tore into the wherries was frightening to behold. Savagely, ruthlessly, they pressed the attack, tiny gouts of flame searing wherry flesh, razor-sharp talons raking whatever body part they could find. And just when it looked like one of the fire lizards was about to be caught, they would wink _between_ accompanied by howls of rage from the frustrated wherries.

"They certainly are brave little warriors," I said, grinning in admiration.

But even with their greater agility, being able to breathe fire, and to go _between_ , they were vastly outnumbered. It was only a matter of time before they were too exhausted to prevent the wherries from descending on the clutch.

"There must be something I can do!" I fumed, watching helplessly, my own frustration amplified by the combined feelings I was picking up from the queen and her fair.

"By the stars, what a fool I am!" I exclaimed, my hand smacking resoundingly against my forehead as I suddenly recalled the blaster strapped to my side.

That realization came none too soon as a lone wherry spiraled down from the rest of the flock, heading straight for the unprotected clutch.

"Oh, no you don't!" I said, drawing my weapon.

Thumbing the power to a different setting, I fired on the diving wherry, burning a hole through its wing, setting it aflame. Wailing in agony, the wherry veered away, frantically searching about for the one who'd flamed it. His cries drew the attention of one of the greens who dove on it, savagely harrying the poor creature until it was well away, flapping for its life.

Several other wherries dove from the main group. But the cliff's edge afforded me a clear field of fire which I put to good use, singeing the tail off one wherry and frightening the other two into fleeing as the beam passed dangerously close in front of them.

"This is no good," I muttered, watching the battle overhead. "There are too many uglies for them to chase off. And my firing angle is too depressed. If I'm not careful, I could accidentally hit the clutch. I've got to get down there."

Frantically, I glanced about, searching for a solution to my dilemma. The cliff face in front of me was out of the question. It was a good three or four dragonlengths high, and the face sloped inward to the base. That made scaling it nigh impossible without special gear, which I didn't have.

Another wherry made a pass at the clutch, but I chased it off, raking my blaster's beam across one of its hindquarters. The little queen materialized just above the wherry, her razor-sharp talons slashing across the creature's neck as she dove past. Screeching in terror at the double attack, the wherry abruptly veered out to sea, the little queen hot on its tail.

Jumping down was also out of the question. At this height, I'd be risking a broken leg at least. The terrain along this stretch of coastline was uneven, and as I gazed further up the coast, I spotted a place where the bluff appeared to be just a little higher than I was tall. I could easily jump down from there, but it was many, many dragonlengths away, and the wherries continued to get through to the clutch. One had landed by the clutch and was busy shoveling the sand off the eggs while another circled above, waiting to land.

"Sorry, ugly, fire lizard egg is not on the menu today," I cursed, praying in the same breath that my aim was true.

The beam from my blaster screamed forth, neatly severing the foreleg off the digging wherry, but it also narrowly missed an exposed fire lizard egg. Crying out in agony, the wounded wherry took flight, nearly colliding with its circling kin. I sent that one squawking, too, after scoring him across the neck with another blast. A brown and a blue appeared just behind them to speed the wherries on their way.

And then, I was off, racing up the coast to that low spot on the bluff, all the while praying that the fire lizards could keep the wherries occupied until I returned. I didn't look back. Any delay would prove disastrous. From the sounds of battle that reached my ears, it wasn't going well for the fire lizards.

Reaching the dip in the bluff, I leaped down to the beach, the distance turning out to be about half a dragonlength high. Rolling as I landed to cushion the fall, I came up to my feet at a run.

 _Hang on, little queen,_ I thought, _help's on the way._

I quickened my pace, ignoring the stitch in my side, and soon rounded the bend in the cliff to the section of beach where the clutch lay buried.

"NO!" I screamed, horrified.

A wherry had reached the clutch and had an egg in its forepaws, its beak poised to peck it open. Almost of its own accord, my blaster swung up and fired. But when the beam struck the wherry, the creature disintegrated, dissolving into a cloud of scintillating atomic particles that dispersed on the breeze.

As the fire lizard egg fell back to the cushioning sands, I checked my blaster. It was on maximum! In my fear and anger, I had unconsciously thumbed the setting up before firing. Switching back to the previous setting, I scurried over to the uncovered clutch, dodging one wherry's talons as he swooped past. Carefully, I examined the egg the wherry had dropped.

"Good," I sighed, immensely relieved, "it doesn't appear to be damaged."

Quickly, I put it back with the rest of the clutch, shoveling handfuls of sand on top to cover it. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a blur of motion. I dove to one side, narrowly escaping a pair of wherry talons aimed for my face.

"Close, ugly, but no cigar!" I growled, loosing my blaster again.

As the beam scorched its abdomen, the wherry shrieked its fury down at me. Clearly, it hadn't expected humans to spout fire.

I stayed by the clutch, firing at any wherries that broke loose from the melee above. Suddenly, the air around me exploded with fire lizards. The queen and several of her bronzes had spotted me and were now attacking, thinking I was a threat to their nest.

"Ow! Hey, stop! Wait! Ouch!"

They flitted, swooped, and dove about my head, their talons unsheathed, their jaws snapping. One managed to sink his teeth into the back of my neck while the queen and another raked their talons across my shielding forearm.

"I'm not after your eggs!" I cried out. "I'm here to help!"

They had completely forgotten the wherries. I had to flail my arms wildly about my head to keep my attackers at bay.

"Please, listen to me!" I called out, my cries barely heard above the shrieking of the angry fire lizards. "I'm trying to help! The wherries! Ow!"

One of the bronzes raked his talons across my cheek, but as I ducked to avoid another attack, I caught a glimpse of several wherries landing on the clutch mound, taking advantage of the distraction to get at the eggs.

"Behind you!" I screamed.

Heedless of the fire lizards' razor‑sharp talons, I somehow managed to swat one out of the way as I brought my blaster to bear. The beam lanced out, narrowly missing the queen hovering just in front of me, striking one of the wherries in the face, blinding it. Startled by the wherry's howl, the queen whirled. Seeing the creatures about to devour her clutch, she let forth such an ear‑splitting shriek, I had to cover my ears to keep from being deafened. The little queen descended on the wherries in a terrifying, all‑consuming fury, rending one to pieces in spite of its greater size and scattering the others.

Exhausted, I sank heavily to the sands, watching the bronzes join the little queen to chase the remaining wherries off. Blood oozed from countless scratches on my arm, cheek, and neck as I dabbed at them with the free edge of my tunic.

"Guess that's what I get for meddling," I chuckled.

Glancing over at the nest, I could see bits of wherry scattered everywhere, but the mound appeared unharmed. I sighed with relief but had no time to rest for more wherries began to circle down.

Once more, my blaster sang its fiery song as I fought to drive the wherries away. Their numbers had been greatly reduced, but the fire lizards were still hard pressed to keep them at bay. Unexpectedly, the little queen appeared beside me, emitting a warning squeal.

"Please, little one, you've got to understand," I begged. "I only want to help!" And to emphasize the point, I blasted another wherry, setting its tail afire. "Do you understand? I want to help!"

The little queen stared at me a moment, emitted a sound just like my blaster, then disappeared. She hadn't attacked! Did that mean she understood?

Something slammed into me from behind. I howled in pain, dropping my blaster as talons penetrated my leather jerkin, tearing into my shoulder beneath. In my distraction, a wherry had surprised me and was now raking my neck and face with its foreleg talons and beak. I struggled to my feet, frantically trying to dislodge the beast with one hand while desperately trying to blunt its attack with my other arm.

Blood from my wounds was running down my back, and I was on the verge of panic when a keening fire lizard shriek exploded directly above me. The wherry cried out in pain, loosening its grip. One of the fire lizards must have seen the creature and attacked. Taking advantage of the distraction, I pried the talons open and wrenched the wherry from my shoulder. Then, still clinging tightly to its hind legs, I swung the desperately flailing creature round and round above my head before hurling it, squawking, in a splendid arc out into the churning surf.

For a long moment, I stood, dazed and unsteady, staring out at the oncoming waves. Who had helped me? I was looking about for my mysterious savior when something landed ever so gently on my shoulder.

"Chirp?" I heard, and turned to meet the worried gaze of a brown fire lizard.

"Bolter?!" I spluttered, staring in disbelief as he nuzzled my cheek, crooning reassuringly. "Bolter! I can't believe it!" I exclaimed, hugging his tiny head to my cheek. "Oh, little dragon, you have no idea how happy I am to see you!" I was never so glad to see anyone in my life! "Bolter, is Ryeena here?" I asked, looking into his idly whirling eyes. "Is she with you?"

He stroked my hand, gave a short whistle, and cocked his head to one side. But the impression I picked up was of Misty Hold and the cot of Holder Gerrald.

If Ryeena was at the cot, what was Bolter doing here? He chirruped again, and I followed his gaze up to the battle still raging overhead. As I did, I received an impression of the little queen I'd met earlier.

"She called you?" I asked.

Bolter headstroked my hand, humming confirmation.

"But why should you answer?" I wondered.

Bolter responded with such a quiet and respectful trill, there could be only one explanation.

"You came from one of her clutches, didn't you?" I surmised.

Retrieving my dropped blaster, I gazed aloft.

"Go help them, Bolter," I said, pointing skyward, "they need you. I'll stay here to protect the clutch. Go!"

Eyes whirling brightly red, Bolter emitted a challenging shriek, then leaped from my shoulder, arrowing skyward to engage the wherries.

I wouldn't survive another attack like that last one. Bolter's timely arrival had been the only reason I'd escaped alive.

"Which leaves just one way to cover my back and protect the clutch," I reasoned.

Picking a spot about an arm's length from the nest, I laid on my back on the warm sand. From this vantage point, I could scan most of the visible sky and bring my blaster to bear on any wherries that looked threatening. And, unless they'd learned how to burrow, my back would be safe.

I didn't have long to wait; the wherries started coming again almost immediately. Several were sent packing by my blaster fire, and I surprised one with a boot in his beak as he tried angling in low over the dunes.

During those moments I wasn't actively defending the little queen's eggs, I helped the fire lizards with their own battles. As one would go _between_ avoiding a wherry's talons, it would leave me an opening to use my blaster. For a time, it almost seemed as if they were doing it deliberately, baiting the wherries into position, then winking out of sight so that I could fire.

Wherries thudded heavily to the beach, stunned or dead from my blaster fire, others flying off screeching in pain from blaster burns or wing perforations. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the battle was over. The few remaining wherries scattered, hotly pursued by the queen and her fair. I collapsed against the warm sand, only now feeling the sting of sweat and dirt in my wounds.

"So much for a nice restful visit to the coast!" I chuckled.

Thumbing the safety back on, I holstered my blaster. Then, I just laid there, my body unwilling to move, the distant murmur of the surf and the salty tang of the sea breeze very relaxing.

I must have dozed off for I had the feeling I'd been lying there for some time. A flurry of wings brought me awake, and then something landed on my stomach, creeling softly.

"I'm alright, Bolter," I spoke aloud. "Just resting. Are the other fire lizards … Oh!"

A tiny golden head was intently regarding me with slowly whirling blue-green eyes. It was the little queen!

"Chirp?" she asked, cocking her head to one side, a touch of worry in her tone.

"Me? No, I'll be okay," I replied, smiling. "Thank you for asking." I gasped. "The clutch! Is it …"

The little queen trilled softly, looking to one side. Following her gaze, I could see the clutch mound was still intact and well guarded by her fair.

"Thank the Egg!" I sighed, relieved. "I was so worried."

The little queen chittered happily, seemingly amused by my concern for her clutch.

"Do you suppose I could get up now?" I asked.

With a gentle, almost reluctant sigh, the little queen hopped down from my stomach. As I slowly sat up, I hissed at the scratches and dried blood on my arm. My shoulder felt stiff and sore from the wherry talons, but it didn't feel damp, so the bleeding must have stopped for now. Another flurry of wings, and Bolter landed on my other shoulder, chirruping anxiously as he examined the caked blood on my cheek.

"I'll be okay, Bolter," I assured him, stroking his neck ridge, "that is, until Ryeena gets a look at me."

Bolter responded with such a comical whistle, it made me laugh.

"We saved the clutch," I said. "That's all that matters. Now, we'd best be heading back. Ryeena did warn us about Threadfall today."

I was just starting to rise when the little queen creeled plaintively, grasping my hand with her forelegs.

"Bolter, I don't think she wants me to leave, yet," I said, looking down at the little queen. "What is it, little one?"

Flitting back to her nest, I watched perplexed as the little queen uncovered the clutch. Then, with deliberate care, she selected one of the eggs and gently nudged it out of the nest. Mystified, I watched her carefully roll it across the sand, stopping in front of me. Slowly, reverently, she removed her protecting talons from the egg, then looked up at me. I couldn't believe what I was seeing!

"You want me to have it?" I queried, uncertain. The little queen backed a couple of steps away. "Bolter, I think she wants me to have one of her eggs!"

Incredulous, I stared down at the mottled shell lying in front of me. Bolter merely sniffed and looked at me as if saying, 'Well, you earned it!'

A sigh of wonder escaped my lips as I gently scooped up the precious egg. The shell was still a bit soft so it couldn't have been too long in the sand.

With sad, longing eyes, the little queen watched me, a gentle trill of resignation reaching my ears. It was obvious that she didn't want to give up the egg, but she also seemed determined to repay me for my help and to make amends for the injuries she and her fair had caused.

A lump that threatened to choke me formed in my throat. I swallowed hard, slowly beginning to understand the extraordinary sacrifice the little queen was making. Wiping a tear from my eye, I reached past her and very carefully placed the wondrous egg back in the nest. Then, I cautiously began to push sand back over the clutch. As I did, the little queen appeared in front of me, her forepaws on my hand, stopping me. She chirruped at me, her eyes whirling orange with uncertainty, as if asking 'Don't you want it?'

"You don't have to do this, little queen," I assured her, smiling as I patted her paws gently. "I just didn't want to see your eggs destroyed, that's all."

The little queen turned to Bolter, trilling questioningly, sounding almost like 'Is he serious?' Bolter merely nodded, his eyes whirling green‑blue. She looked at me then, and I watched in rapt fascination as her eyes slowed their whirling and shaded from orange to a more contented blue color. The little queen turned to her fair, gave an authoritative chirp, then pushed my hand aside and nudged the egg back out of the nest and over to me. This time, however, as she stood there, one protective forepaw on the egg, she seemed to smile, and a feeling of warmth and gratitude flowed from her as she released the egg and backed away.

Tears rolled unbidden down my cheek as I picked up the now doubly precious egg. The little queen nodded to me, content with her decision, then began covering the clutch with sand. I backed away slowly, carefully, afraid any sudden movement might somehow damage this most amazing gift. As I was admiring the egg, I suddenly realized I would need something to carry it in and keep it warm. Placing the egg carefully to one side, I lifted Bolter from my shoulder, then quickly undid the lacings of my jerkin, stripping it off along with the tunic underneath, ignoring the pain as I ripped scabs off my wounds along with it.

Spreading the leather jerkin out before me, I covered it with a layer of sand and then placed the egg in the center. Then, I heaped warm sand on top of it. When I had a sufficient pile, I gathered the jerkin into a small sack and laced it tightly at the top. Then, I gathered the tunic up around the leather sack in a supporting outer covering and laced this tightly closed as well.

Hearing the cries of many excited fire lizards, I looked up to see the fair settling on the wherries that lay scattered about the beach. They tore ravenously at the flesh, devouring it greedily.

 _After what they've been through_ , I thought, _they've earned it._

Bolter chirped inquiringly at me, and I looked over at him.

"Time to go, little dragon," I said as I rose, the precious egg bundle tucked lovingly into the crook of my arm.

Bolter chirruped sadly, gazing over to where the queen and her fair were feeding.

"If you want to join them, go ahead," I said, waving in their direction. "I can find my way back. Go on! I'll explain to Ryeena."

Whistling happily, Bolter took wing, calling out to the rest of the fair as he approached. I watched as he landed nearby, receiving an admonitory chirp from the little queen but was then allowed to join them in their feast. I turned and started off back down the coast to Misty Hold and Ryeena.

The sun was well past midsky and into the early afternoon as I passed a small rock outcropping near the cliff. Pausing, I turned to gaze back up the beach. I couldn't see the fire lizards anymore, their sounds swept away by the surf. Looking down at the bundle in my arms, I smiled.

"Goodbye, little queen," I called, waving up the coast, "and thank you!"

Turning to continue on down the coast, I was startled to find the little queen hovering in front of me. Offering my forearm to her, she landed gingerly, taking great pains not to scratch me with her talons. For a long while, she stared at me, her eyes a slowly whirling orange, and I got the distinct impression she was still worried about her clutch. This time, though, it wasn't because of wherries.

"Don't worry, little one," I assured her. "Your secret's safe. I give you my word I'll tell no one about your nest. If other humans want a fire lizard egg, they'll have to find it on their own … and earn it!"

The little queen took one long look at the bundle I carried then crooned happily, her eyes whirling blue with her undying gratitude. She screeched her blaster imitation once, making me laugh, and then was off, winging skyward, vanishing from view in the sea spray as she returned to her fair.

"Now I'd best get you back to the hold, little one," I said, addressing the bundle in my arm as I moved on past the outcropping. "Ryeena said there was a Fall today but she didn't say when. We'd best hurry."

Humming a happy little ditty to myself, my steps unexpectedly light, I picked up my pace and settled into a comfortable jog across the sands, cushioning my bundle against any bouncing as I made my way back to Misty Hold and Ryeena.


	13. Chapter 13 - Threadfall!

Chapter 13

 _ **Threadfall!**_

Silver death falling from space

Mindless hunger consuming all

No hope to escape Death's swift pace

Fight, then, for a gift most precious of all

HAPPY … that's how I felt as I jogged along the beach. The sun was warm, the skies clear, and a gentle breeze was blowing in from the sea. In almost no time, I once more found myself on the shores of the river I'd forded earlier, the one that emptied into the great Western Sea. All the splendor of Pern lay before me, and I paused, breathing deeply of the clean, fragrant air.

What seemed a lifetime ago, Pern had beckoned to me from across the infinite blackness of space. The journey to reach this world had not been easy, but I was more certain than ever that this was where my destiny awaited. All I had to do now was find it.

"What a wondrous and beautiful place!" I sighed.

Gazing upriver, I shook my head in wonder, still amazed by how far I'd traveled up the Tillek peninsula. Still, at the pace I was keeping, I was reasonably certain that I would reach Misty Hold in time for the evening meal with an appetite that would test Ryeena's claim about the best cooking on Pern. I smiled broadly, delighting in the prospect.

"That's odd," I remarked, glancing about. "It's awfully quiet."

There'd been plenty of activity here earlier. Now, the only sounds I heard were the voices in my head … dragon voices – many of them, excited, urgent. Aside from that, not a buzz, slither, or squawk anywhere.

The silence was at once eerie and terrifying, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I swallowed once, suddenly realizing why everything seemed so familiar. I had been here before … in my dreams! And that meant …

Fervently praying that I was wrong, I slowly turned. Low on the horizon to the northeast, I saw them: lightning flashes against a gray sky. Threadfall!

My knees gave way, and I stumbled, nearly collapsing to the sands. The scene playing out was exactly like my dreams! I swallowed hard, fear and uncertainty rooting me to the spot. In those early dreams, I'd been caught by Thread. Frantically, I made my way down to the river, counting the flashes of dragon fire as they wove a long, wide pattern across the sky. If the riders from High Reaches Weyr were already at work, would the Thread get this far? It was still a long ways off, but there was no way I could reach the safety of Misty Hold in time.

Driven by a new sense of urgency, I forded the river and started running along the beach, searching for any sort of cave or overhang that would offer shelter. I knew Thread drowned in water, but I couldn't possibly hold my breath long enough to outlast the Fall. That ruled out the ocean except as a last desperate resort.

The dragon voices were growing more numerous, and one quick glance over my shoulder at the sky bursts of dragon fire told me the Thread was gaining. Trouble was, the further along the beach I ran, the gentler the terrain became, transforming from sheer cliffs to steep inclines to rolling hills. There was no place to hide, and now, I had the fire lizard egg … my fire lizard egg … to worry about.

I skidded to a stop, suddenly realizing that there was one insanely desperate option open to me, one no other inhabitant of Pern could or would even consider.

Dropping to my knees, I set my egg bundle aside then feverishly dug a hole in the sand. When it was deep enough, I eased the bundle into it then filled the hole back up, covering it with a good-sized mound for added protection. Then, I rose, turning to face the leading edge of Thread as I unholstered my blaster. Only its beam could reach high enough to destroy the silver strands before …

Low and behind the other dragons of High Reaches Weyr flew the queens' wing, their riders armed with flame-throwers. Searching eyes roamed sky and ground, ready to sear any Thread that escaped. The leading edge of the Fall was well down the coast of Tillek having moments before passed a small river feeding into the Western Sea when one of the queen riders called out to her leader.

"Pilgra! Did you see that?"

"See what, Lorena? Did we miss some Thread?"

"No, ahead! I saw a light!"

"What kind of a light?"

"I'm not sure. A strange light, crimson as the Red Star … it shot up from somewhere near the beach!"

"Shot up?!"

"Yes! It touched some Thread, then the whole tangle disappeared in a cloud of sparks!"

"Disappeared? Are you certain?"

"Yes! Look there! Again!"

As Pilgra spun about, she caught a glimpse of the remnants of a sparkling cloud and watched in amazement as the strange light lanced up from just beyond a rise to strike a rapidly falling clump of Thread. Before her astonished eyes, the tangled mass was enveloped in brilliant sparks that just as quickly dispersed on the winds.

"Koriana, take the wing!" Pilgra ordered the rider to her left. "Lorena and I are going to investigate that strange light. We'll catch up with you later!"

"Yes, Weyrwoman!" the other rider acknowledged.

The two great queens carrying Pilgra and Lorena veered off, angling toward the coastline, the rest of the queen's wing continuing on.

"What do you think could be causing it?" Lorena called out, winging alongside her Weyrwoman.

"We'll know soon enough," Pilgra replied. "That section of beach is coming up and … By the shards of my dragon's egg!"

Selgrith, Pilgra's queen, rumbled her shared astonishment.

"Scorch the flesh and sear the skin!" Lorena chimed in. "Some fool holder is out during Threadfall … and standing out in the open!" Porath, her dragon, snorted her opinion of such folly. "Is he mad?"

"Land!" Pilgra ordered, pointing to the beach. "We'll pick that fool numbwit up before he gets himself Threaded!"

Being able to hear dragons, I knew two were fast approaching. Scanning the sky for any more imminent Thread and seeing none, I holstered my blaster then turned to meet the arrivals. They were magnificent to watch, and my heart stirred at the sight of those wondrous creatures that protected all Pern from the ravages of Thread.

"What are you doing, you fool?" Pilgra demanded as her dragon backwinged to land in front of me, Lorena and her own landing smartly to one side. "Are you insane?!"

"No, though my actions would certainly belie that!" I laughed, heartily. "Greetings to you, queen riders, and to your noble dragons!"

"I am Pilgra, Weyrwoman of High Reaches. Climb up! We'll get you to safety."

"Not without my bundle," I told her, kneeling by the mound that covered my fire lizard egg.

"Your what?" she pondered, watching as I dug furiously in the sand. "What are you doing? We've no time to waste!"

"Not without this!" I shouted, pulling my precious bundle out of the sand.

Cradling it protectively against my body, I moved over to Pilgra's dragon.

"What is it?" she called down, curious.

"A doubly precious gift," I sighed, looking down at the bundle, "from a very special friend."

"Take my hand," Pilgra ordered, reaching down. "We've got to be away!"

As I looked up, horror filled my eyes. "Above you!"

I'll give her credit. Pilgra was fast, but I was faster. As she brought her flame-thrower to bear, the crimson beam of my blaster lanced past her shoulder, striking a tangled mass of roiling Thread and disintegrating it a scant few handspans above her head. Sighing with relief as the scintillating cloud dispersed, she spun then, staring open-mouthed at me and the slightly steaming barrel of my blaster.

"That light!" Lorena cried out, pointing excitedly at me. "It came from the thing in his hand!"

"Too close," I sighed, shaking my head as I holstered my blaster. "Way too close! You're right, Weyrwoman. We'd best be away … and quickly!"

"You're that offworlder!" Pilgra exclaimed with sudden comprehension. "The one all Pern is talking about … the one from Earth!"

"My name is John, Weyrwoman," I introduced myself. Then, with a chuckle, "And I would greatly prefer not becoming the late and lamented offworlder. Shall we go?"

With a boost from Selgrith's foreleg, I grasped Pilgra's outstretched hand, and in a couple of quick steps, was firmly astride the queen's neck behind her rider.

"Hang on!" Pilgra warned me just as Selgrith leaped skyward.

Wings beating powerfully, the massive queen surged up away from the beach, carrying us aloft. The climb was exhilarating and, as I felt myself pressed against the soft, warm flesh beneath me, I smiled in spite of myself.

"This is magnificent!" I shouted, unable to restrain the wonder I felt.

"Just what did you think you were doing, you numbwit, being out during Threadfall?" Pilgra angrily demanded. "You could have been killed!"

"I left on a walk this morning, Weyrwoman," I replied, shouting against the wind rush to be heard. "I was … unavoidably delayed in my return. Tell me, has the leading edge of the Fall reached Misty Hold yet?"

"They should be under Fall now," Pilgra replied. "Is that where you're from?"

"I'm visiting there with a young friend of mine," I explained. "She's probably out of her head with worry because I hadn't returned in time. Is there any way we can get word to her that I'm alright?"

"We'll be overflying that area shortly," Pilgra told me. "We can drop you off as we pass."

 _Thread falling ahead,_ rumbled Selgrith.

Pilgra readied her flame-thrower as I followed her gaze forward and up. A single strand, I noted, but any Thread falling on fertile ground could blight the region at incredible speed.

"Allow me," I said, nudging Pilgra as I brought my blaster up in front of her.

The crimson beam lanced out, arrowing up to strike the Thread, disintegrating it in seconds.

"A handy device!" Pilgra remarked, envious eyes on my blaster. "Compact, portable, with a far greater range than our flame-throwers and unaffected by the wind. Wish we had a few more of them."

"You did me a favor rescuing me from that beach, Weyrwoman," I told her. "It's only fair that I return the favor. Until we reach Misty Hold, my blaster's firepower is at your disposal."

"You're not afraid of Thread?" she asked, surprised.

"Only a fool is unafraid of Thread, Weyrwoman," I replied. "But if you let that fear control you, you may as well stay Weyr- or hold-bound."

"Well, then, welcome to the queen's wing, John," Pilgra said, as we rejoined the others.

It was a breath-taking ride, time losing all importance. I watched the male dragonriders at work, charring Thread to impotence, and watched with equal delight the precision of the queen riders as they seared any that escaped. Occasionally, Pilgra would nudge me, pointing to a patch of falling Thread, and my blaster's beam would lash out, vaporizing the offending strands.

"There," Pilgra pointed to our right. "Sarina should get that one."

"Which one is she?" I asked, tracking the falling tangle of Thread with my blaster. The wind currents were becoming unstable, so I was providing covering fire in case …

"Last one out," Pilgra informed me. "This is her first Fall. Now we'll see if she paid attention to her training."

Nervously, I watched as Sarina and her queen rose to char the Thread, her flame-thrower at the ready. They made a flawless approach, then Sarina's thrower spouted flame. But the fickle winds chose that precise moment to gust in a new direction. Sarina's flame was deflected, charring only half the Thread, the rest of the ravenous strand blown straight toward her face.

The startled squawk of Sarina's queen exploded in my mind, my finger closing on my blaster's trigger in the same instant. Its crimson beam flashed past several startled queen riders before striking the roiling mass of Thread, vaporizing it scant millimeters from making contact.

"Thank the Egg!" Pilgra sighed, greatly relieved.

"Is she alright?" I asked, glancing over at Sarina who appeared frozen astride her queen.

"Give her a few seconds to gather her wits, John," Pilgra replied. "She'll be okay."

Sarina slumped forward then against the neck of her dragon, finally realizing just how close they'd come to being scored. Her dragon crooned reassuringly, to which Sarina lovingly slapped her dragon's neck before slowly looking our way. I held my blaster aloft, waving it at her in a salute, and was extremely gratified when Sarina returned the gesture with her own flame-thrower.

"She's got a lot of courage, Weyrwoman," I told Pilgra. "You all do. After what I've seen Thread can do … "

"You've actually seen someone scored?" Pilgra asked.

"Worse," I replied, shivering with revulsion. "Just before you rescued me from the beach, a spooked wherry bolted from his hiding place. He never saw the strand of Thread he flew into." I shuddered again. "The screams it made. Never seen anything like that before. It was so quick! It made me so sick to watch, I finally vaporized the Thread and what was left of that hapless wherry."

"The first time I commanded the queen's wing," Pilgra spoke, "I watched one of my friends get scored. They … went _between_ … and never returned."

I nodded, squeezing her shoulder in understanding.

"And you're certainly not one lacking in courage either, John," Pilgra assured me. "Fighting Thread like that out in the open during a Fall. You didn't have a dragon to take you _between_ if you accidentally got scored."

"Necessity breeds solutions, Weyrwoman," I told her. "Trust me, it's a mistake I shan't repeat anytime soon!"

In spite of the wind blast, I heard Pilgra laughing.

"Misty Hold ahead!" she called out, pointing forward and down.

"There! That's the one!" I shouted back, recognizing the little cot that belonged to Ryeena's uncle. "Can we land there?"

"Hold tight!" Pilgra warned me, even as Selgrith winged over into a steep descent.

Somehow, I managed to keep myself astride Selgrith's neck but not without some anxious moments. We circled the cot a few times, Selgrith bugling to attract the attention of those within, and soon Holder Gerrald emerged from the front door. Wide-eyed with astonishment, he watched Selgrith execute a smart little turn then glide down to a landing, backwinging to a stop directly in front of him.

"We found this poor soul wandering the beaches," Pilgra spoke as I slid down Selgrith's side, her tone mocking but friendly. "He claims he comes from here!"

"He does indeed, Weyrwoman," Gerrald replied, smiling. "My thanks for rescuing him." His smile turned quickly serious, however, when he spotted the dried blood on my face, neck, and arms. "Ryeena!"

Instantly, she appeared beside him in the door.

"John!" she cried, dashing out to meet me.

"She's been worried sick about him, Weyrwoman," Gerrald added, Ryeena embracing me fiercely. "I very nearly had to tie her down to keep her from going out during the Fall to find him."

"What happened?" Ryeena asked, her gaze quickly taking in all my injuries.

"We'll talk inside," I assured her. "Weyrwoman Pilgra must get back to finish the sweep."

"Yes, of course," Gerrald said. Then, looking up at the dragonrider, he added, "You are more than welcome to join us later, Weyrwoman, for food and drink. It's the least we can do to repay you for saving Ryeena's friend."

"I look forward to it, good holder," Pilgra replied with a salute. "Till then!"

With a mighty leap, Selgrith bore her rider aloft then abruptly winked _between_ , drawing a startled exclamation of delight from everyone, including some of the fosterlings who were crowding the open door.

"Now, let's get you inside and get those wounds tended to," Holder Gerrald spoke, gesturing for me to precede him into the cot.

I didn't get far. The moment I stepped past him, he seized my arm, pulling me to a stop.

"Shells!" he cursed, wide-eyed as he stared at the blood and sand encrusting my back and neck. "Inside, quickly! Mostef, Bellar, get the healing supplies! Now!"

"Yessir!" the two boys echoed as one before vanishing from the door.

The others cleared the way as we entered, and Holder Gerrald led me over to a table where he had me sit while he examined my wounds.

"Would you mind explaining what you thought you were doing?!" Ryeena fumed, her face flushed but anxious as she leaned across the table. "Do you have any idea how scared we were? Why didn't you come back before the Fall?"

"Because of this," I replied, setting my bundle on the table.

"What is it?" Nylene inquired, joining us from the kitchen.

"A gift …" I told them, removing the lacing from the outer tunic sack.

"A gift?" Gerrald pondered, his curiosity aroused as I undid the lacing of the inner jerkin sack.

"Yes … from a very special friend."

Unbound, the leather jerkin fell away revealing the mound of sand within. Gradually, the warm sand began to settle, and as it did, the treasure hidden beneath slowly revealed itself.

"Why, that looks like …" Nylene stammered, pointing.

"A fire lizard egg!" Ryeena gasped, eyes popping.

Highly prized by all on Pern, the merest mention of it brought all the hold children bolting into the room.

"Where did you find it?"

"How many were in the clutch?"

"How did you get it?"

"Who is it for?"

"Are there any more?"

"I want it!"

"I saw it first!"

"How far from here was it when you found it?"

"Were the other fire lizards around, too?"

"Why didn't you bring back more?"

"What color will it be?"

"Do you know when it will hatch?"

"Why isn't he saying anything?"

"Enough!" Gerrald roared, bringing an end to the din. "Ryeena's friend has been hurt and was caught outside during the Fall. Give him a chance to breathe and recover his senses!"

"You were outside during Threadfall?!" Trillene asked, eyes wide with horror.

"Truth be told, Holder Gerrald, for a time, I was actually fighting Thread!" I replied, smiling at the looks of disbelief and astonishment on the faces of the hold children. "That's how Weyrwoman Pilgra found me. She and her wing second, Stars bless her sharp eyes, spotted my blaster fire down by the beach and swooped down to rescue me. Otherwise, I'd've had to walk home."

"Weren't you scared, John?" little Trillene shyly asked.

"Yes, I was, little friend," I replied, taking her hands. "But, I didn't let my fear control me. Instead, I made it work for me. It kept me sharp, alert, constantly watching for the next falling piece of Thread. And my blaster let me destroy it far enough up in the sky so it wouldn't hurt me."

"Then, how did you get all scratched up?" inquired Ryeena, examining the wounds on my arms, neck, and face.

I glanced first at Ryeena, then over at her uncle.

"You have treated me with great kindness, Holder Gerrald, and for that I am very grateful," I said, looking about me. "You have welcomed me like family and made me feel at home here. You, most of all, deserve an explanation. I deeply regret I cannot give you one."

"Why not, John?" he asked, concerned but not hurt by my evasiveness.

"I promised the little queen that I wouldn't say anything that would give away the whereabouts of her clutch," I replied, lowering my head. "I am sorry."

The children erupted in a storm of protests.

"But, he's got to tell us!" one objected.

"That's right!" another agreed.

"If he doesn't tell us about the egg and where he found it, how are we to get one of our own?" a third asked.

"No!"

Startled, everyone turned, staring at little Trillene, the lone dissenting voice.

"It's not right!" she protested, arms akimbo, fists on hips. "He made a promise to the little queen. If we make him tell, we'd be making him break that promise!"

"That's not right, and it isn't fair, is it?" she asked, large innocent eyes looking up at me.

For a moment, I stared open-mouthed at her then smiled before reaching over to give her a big hug.

"No, it isn't, Trillene," I replied, grinning broadly, gazing in wonder at this marvelous child. "You've a courage and wisdom beyond your Turns, little friend. Tell me … would you like a fire lizard of your own?"

"Oh, would I!" she sighed, a wistful gleam in her eyes.

"What about this one?" I asked, lifting the egg out of the pile of sand and holding it out to her.

This brought first gasps of astonishment and disbelief then a new louder round of protests from the other children.

"Be still, all of you!" Gerrald ordered, bringing instant silence.

"But, the little queen gave it to you!" Trillene protested, holding up her hands as she stared, wide-eyed at me. "You said it was a gift!"

"She trusted me to take good care of it," I explained, smiling warmly. "I think I can trust you to do the same. It's yours, if you want it."

Gently, lovingly, Trillene ran her tiny hand over the mottled surface of the egg, wistfulness and desire playing across her face while Ryeena stood nearby, gawking, eyes popping in disbelief.

"Thanks, John, but I can't," Trillene finally said, smiling as she closed my hands about the egg and pushed it back to me. "It wouldn't be fair. I haven't earned it, but it looks like you have. Did you help save her clutch? Is that why she gave it to you?"

 _So young and possessed of such keen insight,_ I thought as I placed the egg back in the warm sand.

"Yes, little friend, that's why I have it," I replied. Then, turning to Gerrald, I added, "Mark my words, Holder Gerrald. When next the Dragonriders come on Search, I am certain they'll choose Trillene as a queen candidate."

"Her?!" Bellar snorted, the other children giggling. "She's too young!"

"Perhaps," I said, the boy squirming under my intense gaze, "but she alone had the courage to stand up for her beliefs even though she's so young."

Gerrald and Nylene beamed with pride, smiling at my praise. Trillene merely shuffled her feet, her head lowered in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.

"And, out of all of you," I continued, my arm sweeping wide to include all the fosterlings and hold children, "she was the only one who realized how I came to possess the egg … a gift from the little queen in payment for my help defending her clutch and for the hurt she and her fair mistakenly caused me."

"So that's where you got those scratches on your face and arms," Nylene said. "I thought they were sort of fine."

"We must ask Weyrwoman Pilgra what she thinks of Trillene's candidacy chances when she arrives, Holder Gerrald," I remarked, turning to him. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind giving us her opinion."

"The High Reaches Weyrwoman is coming here?!" Nylene gasped, looking about at the state of their cot.

"Yes," her mate replied. "I invited her to return when the sweep was over for food and drink to repay her for saving John."

"We can't have her seeing the place looking like this!" Nylene croaked, dismayed at the thought of anyone so revered as a dragonrider seeing her home in such disarray. "Ryeena, you and Trillene take care of your friend and get him cleaned up, alright?"

"Of course, Auntie!" Ryeena assured her. "We'll take good care of him, won't we, Trillene?"

"You bet!" she enthusiastically replied, unstoppering the bottle of redwort.

"Good!" Nylene sighed. "The rest of you, get busy! We mustn't disappoint the Weyrwoman when she arrives!"

With that, Nylene bustled the other children off to ready the cot for the arrival of their very distinguished guests.

"I begin to understand why Ryeena has so much respect and admiration for you, John," Gerrald said, standing behind his niece, gentle hands on her shoulders. "You possess a good measure of courage and wisdom yourself, as well as compassion and honesty. I admire that. Now, I'd best leave you to their capable hands. There is much I must do, as well, before the Weyrwoman's arrival. Take good care of him, girls!"

"Yes, Daddy," Trillene smiled.

"Of course, Uncle Gerrald," Ryeena spoke.

The minute the lord holder left, though, Ryeena descended on me like a vengeful wherry.

"Alright, what happened?" she demanded, gently scrubbing the dried blood and sand from my back and shoulder as Trillene worked on my forearms. "You knew there was a Fall today. Why did you stay out so long? Didn't you realize you could have been killed? Shards and Shells, John, I thought I was never going to see you again!"

I turned to face Ryeena because she'd stopped her cleaning, and I could hear her quiet sniffling. There were tears running down her face and her lower lip was trembling.

"Oh, Ryeena, I'm sorry," I apologized as I reached up to brush away her tears, immediately repentant for causing her any worry. "It was such a lovely day and everything was so beautiful. But when I heard the sound of fire lizards playing, I just had to find out where the sound was coming from. I was so excited about possibly seeing them in the wild that I forgot everything else!"

"What happened?" she asked, sniffing back a tear.

"A flock of wherries found their clutch," I told her. "I tried to help chase the wherries away, but the fire lizards thought I was after their eggs. That's how I got the scratches on my arms and face."

"This isn't from a fire lizard," Trillene noted, touching the back of my shoulder and the side of my neck. "Looks more like a wherry."

"It was," I said. "One of them caught me from behind, and for awhile, I thought I would end up as its dinner."

"How'd you get away then?" Ryeena inquired as she pulled up a stool, her weeping forgotten.

"You'll never guess."

"How?"

"Your little friend, Bolter."

"Bolter?! So that's where he disappeared to! But he hasn't come back, yet. What happened? He hasn't been hurt, has he? Oh, please, John, tell me he hasn't been hurt!"

"He's fine, Ryeena," I assured her, patting her hands. "In fact, he was the one who saved me!"

"Really?"

I nodded. "That wherry had his talons buried in my shoulder, and I thought for sure that I was finished. Then, there was this ear-splitting shriek right over my head, and a second later, the wherry cried out in pain. At the same time, I felt its talons loosen their grip, and I was able to pull it off my shoulder and toss it out into the ocean. When Bolter landed on my shoulder, I thought he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen!"

I looked deep into Ryeena's eyes as I took both of her hands in mine.

"He saved my life, Ryeena, just like you did."

Ryeena blushed as she lowered her gaze.

"That doesn't surprise me," Trillene remarked. "Ryeena's always been a good person. And they say a dragon's only as good as his or her rider. Well, fire lizards are just like dragons, only smaller."

"Well, there's no doubt in my mind that Bolter takes after his mistress," I said, smiling at Ryeena as I watched her blush deepen.

Almost on cue, the air filled with the happy warblings of a contented fire lizard, and Ryeena looked up, her face brightening. Bolter popped out of _between_ right over our heads, chittering excitedly as he flitted about the room. He finally settled to Ryeena's shoulder where he languidly curled his tail about her neck, head-stroking her cheek.

"He's stuffed himself!" Ryeena exclaimed, noting Bolter's distended stomach.

"It's why he didn't come back right away," I explained. "As I was leaving, the queen and her fair were dining on the wherries they'd managed to bring down. Bolter wanted to join them, so I told him to go on and that I'd explain when I got back."

"Well, at least Auntie Nylene won't have to worry about giving up some of her food tonight!" Ryeena laughed. "He eats so much!"

A tiny 'Burp!' escaped Bolter, and he looked about in embarrassment as the three of us burst out laughing. Squawking indignantly, he gave a mighty yawn before leaping from Ryeena's shoulder, gliding across the room to the windowsill. With another yawn, he curled up on the sill and drifted blissfully off to sleep.

"We'd best hurry and finish up here," I said. "The others may need our help getting ready for Weyrwoman Pilgra's arrival."

Under Ryeena's and Trillene's careful ministrations, the rest of my wounds were gently but quickly taken care of, then I hurried off to change into some fresh clothes. When I returned to the kitchen, Lady Nylene was waiting with a covered earthenware pot.

"We used this to keep Bolter's egg in until it was ready to hatch," she explained, removing the lid.

While I held the precious fire lizard egg upright in the pot, Nylene poured the protecting sand in around it. There was just enough to surround the egg with an additional inch on top to cover it. Nylene placed the lid back on, then she carefully set the pot by the main hearth where it would stay comfortably warm until the egg was ready to hatch.

"Thank you, my lady," I said, bowing to her. "Now, we'd best hurry."

Returning from flame-thrower duty on his stakehold, Gerrald barely had time to change into some fresh clothing before the sound of a bugling dragon heralded the eagerly anticipated Weyrwoman's arrival. As we hurriedly gathered on the front porch of the cot, we discovered Weyrwoman Pilgra hadn't come alone. Three dragons in all landed on the grass in front of the tiny cot, a bronze and two queens, and I could hear the astonished whispers and nervous gulping all around me as the riders dismounted. Selgrith I recognized, but the other two were strangers.

"That's Weyrleader T'bor," Nylene nervously whispered as her husband strode out to greet the arrivals. "He's coming here?"

Nylene glanced apprehensively about at their modest little residence.

"I find your home more than acceptable, Lady Nylene," I said, stepping up beside her. "I'm sure the dragonriders will, too. But, if anyone dares to insult it, you can be sure I'll have words with that person."

Nylene gasped, seizing my arm as she looked at me with wide, frightened eyes.

"He'd do it, too, Auntie Nylene," Ryeena informed her. "You should have heard him tell off Master Shonagar!"

Everyone gasped, horrified eyes fixing on me, aghast at such a transgression.

"What a sight!" Ryeena laughed. "I thought I was going to faint dead away! But John had good reason."

At that moment, Holder Gerrald and the dragonriders reached the porch.

"Weyrleader, Weyrwoman, allow me to present my wife, Nylene," Gerrald said by way of introduction.

"We are deeply honored you could join us, Weyrleader T'bor," Nylene responded, curtsying deeply. Then, rising, she continued, "These are our children …"

With great care and no small amount of pride, Nylene introduced each in turn from the oldest to the youngest.

"This is our niece, Ryeena …"

"A pleasure to meet you, young lady," T'bor commented, taking her offered hand and lightly kissing the knuckles. "I've heard good things about you from Weyrleader F'lar and Weyrwoman Lessa."

"I … I'm deeply honored by Benden's favor, Weyrleader," Ryeena replied, fidgeting nervously.

"And this is the one I told you about, T'bor," Pilgra spoke as she stepped over to me. "Good to see you again, John!"

"The pleasure is mine, Weyrwoman," I said, bowing deeply, "and might I say you are a very charming woman now that I can see you without your fighting leathers on."

Pilgra's laugh had an effervescent quality, bubbling gaily from her as she looked back over at her weyrmate.

"Better watch this one, T'bor," Pilgra cautioned him, "Cosira was right. He is a flatterer!" As she turned back to me, there was a curious, almost pained expression on her face. "T'bor didn't believe our story about that blaster of yours."

"Our story?" I asked, a bit perplexed.

"Sarina and I," Pilgra said, motioning for the other weyrwoman to come over.

"The one who nearly got Threaded today," I remarked, hurrying down the steps and offering my hand to her.

"I asked Pilgra if I could come along to thank you for saving me and Aramith from that Thread, John," she explained as we shook hands. "I thought we were scored for sure."

"I'm glad I was able to help, Lady Sarina," I told her, "to help you and your dragon."

"I still can't believe how far that … what did you call it?" she asked. "Your blaster, yes. I mean, I was the last one out on that side of the formation, and you got it sitting astride Selgrith!"

"Our best flame-throwers have nowhere near that kind of range," T'bor spoke, a puzzled frown on his face. "How could this blaster of yours reach so far and be unaffected by the wind? And they tell me the Thread wasn't charred. It just kind of disappeared. I'm confused."

"Then allow me to explain," I said, drawing my weapon. "Unlike your flame-throwers, my blaster uses a concentrated form of energy, in some ways similar to the light that shines from your sun. I can also vary its intensity, allowing me to use it in numerous ways. I can stun an opponent, like I did when I rescued Ryeena from the wherries. At its highest setting, the beam can disintegrate an object. The sparkling clouds the queen riders saw were the aftereffects of disintegration."

"Show me," T'bor said.

"Very well," I replied, looking about for a suitable test object. "Holder Gerrald, that large rock jutting up out of the field over there …" I indicated a rock outcropping about five hundred dragonlengths away. "Do you have trouble plowing that field because of it?"

"Aye," he replied, sighing in exasperation. "Would that I could be well rid of it."

"Then, allow me to remove it for you," I told him, raising my blaster.

"From here?!" Sarina gasped.

Smiling, I squeezed the blaster's trigger. Its crimson beam screamed forth, striking the rock and causing the top portion to instantly explode. Whispers of excitement and awe drifted up to my ears.

"That's not what happened to the Thread," Pilgra stated, looking at me.

"Merely a demonstration of a blaster's capabilities," I assured her. "However, …" Thumbing my blaster to its maximum setting, I fired again. This time, the outcropping glowed briefly before the entire mass dissipated in a scintillating cloud of sparks.

"By my dragon's egg!" T'bor gasped.

"That's more like it," Pilgra said, smiling in satisfaction.

"It's a whole different experience when it's right in your face!" Sarina commented, shuddering.

"I know!" Pilgra replied, grinning first at Sarina then at me.

"You do?" T'bor queried, surprise registering on his face. "How? When?"

"When Lorena and I first found John on the beach," Pilgra explained. "I'd just reached down to help him up when he cries out 'Above you!' A tangle of Thread was dropping right down on my head as I swung my thrower around. But before I could squeeze the trigger, John's blaster beam flashed past my shoulder, turning the Thread into a cloud of sparks just a couple of handspans above me. That was the first time we'd actually seen it at work. It proved pretty useful on the trip back here, too."

"No argument there," Sarina commented.

"Aren't you worried someone might steal it?" T'bor asked.

"No," I promptly replied.

"Why not?"

"Because it bites!" Mostef laughed.

"Bites?!" all three dragonriders exclaimed, turning first to him then to me.

"An interesting tale we can share with you over cheese and Benden wine," Holder Gerrald told them, "while we wait for the evening meal to be served. Come!"

Initially, conversation in the cothold was subdued. Except for Ryeena who'd been around Dragonriders before, Holder Gerrald and the rest of his family were clearly awed by them. I, on the other hand, not being born and bred in Pernese traditions, felt more at ease with the Weyrfolk and did my best to serve as an intermediary. Slowly, Holder Gerrald and the others began to open up to the Dragonriders, discovering along the way that the Weyrfolk were just as human as they. By the time we retired to the sitting room to enjoy dessert, the cot echoed with the laughter of holder and dragonrider alike.

"So, the weapon is single-minded," T'bor commented, chuckling after Mostef's recounting of the blaster incident, "allowing only its original owner to safely use it."

"Sounds a bit like what happens when rider and dragon Impress," Pilgra added, nodding in my direction.

"An interesting analogy, Weyrwoman," I said, blinking in surprise at the similarity, "since as the blaster is being made, the unique biosignature of the owner is impressed upon its circuits."

"Wish we had a few more of them," Sarina commented, envious eyes on my blaster. "Any chance the Craftmasters could examine that one and make more like them, John?"

"While I wish it were so, Sarina," I told her, shaking my head, "that would be impossible."

"Why?" T'bor wondered aloud.

"The technology is very sophisticated, the weapon design very advanced," I replied. "As part of a first-contact team, we had to be careful not to introduce technology into an alien society that might drastically disturb its power balance." I glanced out the window toward the field where I'd vaporized that rock. "Once each blaster has been completely assembled, it can't be taken apart, even by the ones who originally built it. Any attempt to take it apart or otherwise tamper with it triggers a built-in fail-safe device and the blaster disintegrates."

"You're right, Pilgra," Sarina commented, nodding to her Weyrwoman, "it does sound a bit like dragon and rider. Still wish we had a few more of them."

 _We could carry him with us, Lifemate,_ an unfamiliar dragon voice suggested.

"Aramith, what a marvelous idea!" Sarina exclaimed, eyes lighting up as she nearly leaped out of her chair.

"Sarina, what is it?" Pilgra inquired, looking first at her fellow dragonrider then at me. I feigned confusion lest I reveal what I'd overheard.

"A team!" Sarina replied, bubbling over with excitement. "With the range his blaster's got, John could ride along with any of the queen riders and cover the entire wing! A tandem Thread-fighting team!"

"For that matter, he could ride with any dragonrider," T'bor commented, eyes agleam with excitement, "his blaster augmenting the dragon's fire. What do you think, John?"

Every eye in the cot was on me, the pregnant silence following Weyrleader T'bor's question almost painful. The excitement and anticipation on the faces of the Dragonriders was understandable. Holder Gerrald and his family were smiling, nodding encouragement. My presence in their cot had already brought them much prestige; it would bring even more if I accepted what the Dragonriders were offering. Only Ryeena, sitting quietly to one side, appeared apprehensive, fretful. Bolter was nuzzling her cheek, quietly crooning assurance, but when he glanced up at me, his eyes were an anxious yellow, and I swallowed a lump in my throat as I picked up on the worry he broadcast.

"There's no question my blaster proved its worth fighting Thread today," I began as I crossed to the window to gaze out at the sight of Rukbat slowly setting over the hills and plains of Pern. "And I'm glad that it was responsible for saving at least one dragonrider from being Threaded." I turned to face the three Dragonriders. "I also saw up close what it's like fighting Thread. Dragon and rider must be as one, each depending on the other, united. Adding a second rider to a fighting dragon adds a variant that is unwise and potentially dangerous."

"But, John, …" Sarina began.

"No, please, hear me out," I begged, holding my hand up. "I'm sure Weyrleader T'bor would agree that Thread fighting is no place for distractions; the difference between escaping and being Threaded as short as half a second, and that only because rider and dragon are Impressed."

"Your point, John?" T'bor inquired.

"Simply this, Dragonrider," I replied, turning to face him. "You've Impressed, I haven't. Let's say I'm riding with you or another fighting dragon. The dragon sees Thread falling dangerously close in front of him and pulls up abruptly to avoid flying into it. The Impressed rider knows what his dragon is about to do and anticipates his own body movements and reactions. The non-Impressed rider is caught unawares and slams into the back of the dragonrider, stunning both riders and distracting the dragon. It may take only half a second, but in that half second dragon and riders have gone from avoiding Thread to being engulfed by it." I shivered involuntarily, recalling my dreams and the sight of that hapless wherry. "No, a fighting dragon is no place for a second rider."

"Yes, I see your point," T'bor mused, his excitement deflating somewhat.

"On the other hand, since the queen's wing is not directly involved with fighting Thread," I continued, "my blaster could be used to its greatest advantage catching those bits of Thread that escape. Perhaps on a queen dragon in a roving position."

Sarina gasped as I looked at her, eyes getting wider as she sat up straighter, an excited grin playing across her lips.

 _Think he means us, Lifemate?_ Aramith inquired, the tone of her question revealing her own excitement.

"There's still much of Pern I haven't seen yet, Weyrleader, a great deal about its people and customs Masterharper Menolly's special apprentice has yet to teach me," I commented, smiling as I nodded to Ryeena. "For now, I must pass on your gracious offer, but I'll certainly keep High Reaches in mind if I decide Sarina's idea is the best."

"Can't ask for more than that, John," T'bor said, smiling as we shook hands.

"I'm sorry the two of you weren't able to attend that first meeting, Lord T'bor," I commented, nodding to him and his weyrmate, "but I certainly understand that Threadfall would take precedence."

"F'lar did his best to fill us in," T'bor replied, "though he ran into some difficulty describing 'Keymon's Song'."

For a brief moment, Ryeena's eyes found mine. There was no mistaking the twinkle of amusement I saw, and I grinned even as she couldn't suppress a giggle.

"I'm sorry, Weyrleader," she apologized, still grinning broadly, "I was just remembering my own reaction the first time John sang it for Masterharper Menolly and me."

Ryeena sighed contentedly, her eyes taking on a distant look, Bolter quietly trilling his accord.

"Could you sing it for us?" Sarina inquired, glancing over at me in anticipation. "All of Pern is talking about it after your performance at Ruatha!"

"On one condition," I replied, giving Holder Gerrald a cryptic wink.

Pulling T'bor to one side, I discussed my condition privately with him, and after striking a deal with the Dragonriders, everyone adjourned to the front porch of Holder Gerrald's cot.

Ryeena joined her lovely voice to mine for this performance, singing harmony along with me, Bolter providing a wondrous descant. The song proved its universal dragon appeal, the three High Reaches dragons crooning along with us. As the fourth verse was ending, a new fire lizard voice joined the chorus, and I gave a start as I looked up to find the little queen and several of her fair watching from their perch on the side porch rail. Daringly, the little queen flitted across to my shoulder, joining her delicate voice to mine as we began the final verse.

"By the stars!" was all T'bor could utter when the song ended.

"Beautiful!" Pilgra sighed as she patted the side of her dragon's head.

"Benden wasn't exaggerating the song's power," Sarina commented, hugging Aramith's muzzle.

"Thank you, little one," I said, scratching the little queen's eye ridge.

Trilling happily, she gave a smart chirp, then took wing, the rest of her fair following her into the skies.

"Well, I think that song was worth the price you asked, John," T'bor said, stepping up beside me. "Who do you think should go first?"

"First?" Gerrald pondered, looking about. "Go where?"

"For those who wish to," I explained, grinning as I nodded to the Dragonriders, "Weyrleader T'bor has graciously agreed to take passengers on a short flight a-dragonback." There were numerous gasps and thunderstruck looks from Holder Gerrald and his family. "There's still enough light that you should get a spectacular view of Misty Hold as only Dragonriders have seen it."

"So, who's first?" Pilgra asked as she and Selgrith came forward.

The hold children were all very well behaved, which, judging by Holder Gerrald's surprised expression, was unexpected. With quiet efficiency and dispatch, each member of his family was taken aloft for a short ride. Lady Nylene had to sit down when she returned, her knees weak from the excitement.

Ryeena, Trillene, and I were the last three to take wing. The sun had set only a few minutes earlier, the ground below us in shadows, the clouds above gold and pink from the setting sun. I leaned forward against T'bor so that I could speak in his ear.

"Hold tight, Trillene," Sarina called back to her passenger, "we're going up higher so you can see the sunset."

Glancing over to where I sat astride Orth, Sarina watched as I circled my arm above my head then dropped it in a cutting motion. All three dragons winked _between_ , vanishing from the skies above Misty Hold only to reappear high above the Tillek peninsula amidst the sun-colored clouds.

"It's so pretty!" Trillene crooned, looking about her.

"And what did you think of your first trip _between_?" Sarina asked her.

"It was neat!" Trillene replied, grinning broadly. "Can we do it again, please?"

Sarina couldn't help laughing at Trillene's infectious enthusiasm. "Another day, perhaps," she said with a wink.

All three dragons began to spiral lazily back to the ground, as if loath to leave the breath-taking view. Eventually, the bronze and two queens backwinged to a landing in front of Holder Gerrald's cot, riders and passengers disembarking. Ryeena said nothing as she came over to give me a hug, the entire experience having left her speechless. Tears of joy fell from her face as she smiled up at me.

"Did you see, Daddy? Did you see me?" Trillene asked, jumping up and down in front of her father, excitement bubbling from her tiny form.

"You were so high!" Gerrald laughed, picking Trillene up in his strong arms.

"I wasn't scared!"

"Even _between_ didn't frighten her," Sarina said, grinning. "She wanted to go back through a second time!"

Gerrald glanced over at me. By the look in his eyes, I could tell he was recalling my earlier comments. As if on cue, T'bor's bronze Orth sauntered over, his massive eyes red with excitement as he began whuffling Trillene up and down.

"Hey! That tickles!" she protested between giggles.

 _Small, but strong,_ I heard Orth comment. _Make a good rider_.

All three Weyrfolk came over to look at Trillene. To her credit, she didn't become nervous or shy.

"Dragonrider?" Gerrald asked, puzzled by the bronze's actions.

"Orth's one of High Reaches better Search dragons, good holder," T'bor explained, lovingly patting his dragon's neck. "Seems he's taken a fancy to Trillene. Thinks she'd make a good rider!"

Nylene gasped, and there were anxious whisperings from the other hold children as they all looked at me. I merely grinned and shrugged in reply.

"Selgrith isn't due to mate for a while yet," Pilgra commented as she brushed Trillene's hair from her eyes, "but I think I know where we can find a Hatching candidate when the time comes."

"Me?!" Trillene squeaked, surprised and delighted.

I spotted Bellar among the children, but when our eyes met, he looked away. A moment later, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find me standing beside him, smiling.

"What about the other children, Weyrwoman?" I inquired, giving Bellar's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"We can certainly have a look at them, too, when we come on Search, John," Pilgra replied, smiling in sympathy for Bellar as she came over. "No telling who a dragon will choose, young man, so buck up!"

Bellar managed a weak smile for the High Reaches Weyrwoman. The next thing we know, Orth has forced his head through the group, his blazing red eyes dizzily awhirl as he looked straight at me.

 _Strongest one yet, Lifemate,_ Orth told his rider, whuffling me all over. _Stronger than you, stronger even than Ramoth's rider!_

That last surprised me, and it must have shown on my face for T'bor started laughing and slapping me on the back. Thankfully, he didn't seem to make the connection, though Ryeena was eyeing me suspiciously.

"Enough, old friend," T'bor told his dragon, chuckling as he slapped him on the neck, "time aplenty there'll be when we come on Search. Best we head back to the Weyr now before we're missed."

"The meal was sumptuous, Lady Nylene," Pilgra said, taking her hands, "and the company was delightful. Thank you for having us."

"The Dragonriders of High Reaches will always be welcome here, Weyrwoman," Nylene replied, happy tears trickling down her face. "We look forward to the next time you can visit with us."

Both women turned to gaze at little Trillene, smiles on their faces.

"As we look forward to the happy day when you have occasion to come visit with us, Lady Nylene," T'bor added, joining his weyrmate.

"Thank you for inviting us, Holder Gerrald," he said as the two shook hands, "it's been a very enjoyable evening."

"I doubt I or my family will ever forget this day," Gerrald told him, grinning from ear to ear. "May you always rise to fight Thread, Dragonrider."

"Thanks again, John, for what you did for me and Aramith today," Sarina remarked as she gave me a quick hug. "I'll never forget it."

"My thanks go to High Reaches Weyr and the riders of the queen's wing, my lady," I told Sarina as I gently kissed her hands, "for rescuing me from that beach. I was only too happy to offer my assistance … and that of my blaster."

"A lovely song, John," T'bor told me as we shook hands. "It will be something to look forward to when you come to visit us at High Reaches."

"I'm grateful for your generosity this evening, Lord T'bor," I said, smiling at Holder Gerrald and his family. "I've been made to feel welcome here and wanted to repay them for their kindness. Thank you."

"Fair payment for your help during today's Fall," T'bor told me, clapping me on the back, "and for your singing. Now, we'd best be off!"

The three riders from High Reaches Weyr mounted their dragons with a speed and grace born of Turns of practice. Propelled by powerful hind legs, all three dragons leapt skyward, carried further aloft by long sweeps of their great gossamer wings. The hold children chased after the dragons, cheering and waving as they ran. With a final salute from the Weyrfolk, all three dragons winked _between_ and the Hold let out a collective sigh of delight before quietly returning to the cot. No one slept very well that night.


	14. Chapter 14 - Gather Journey

Chapter 14

Gather Journey

The air was warming, the skies clearing nicely, filling Holder Gerrald's little cothold with an air of hushed excitement. If the weather held as forecast, then there was sure to be a Gather a sevenday hence at Ruatha Hold. Given the furtive glances I kept getting, it was obvious everyone was thinking about Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra's invitation for me and Ryeena to return.

One evening as we were sitting down to eat, a knock at the cothold's door interrupted us.

"Who could that be?" Varla wondered, glancing past her father.

"We expecting anyone?" Gerrald asked.

Everyone shook their heads.

"John?"

"No," I said with a shrug, "but that never stopped anyone before, did it?"

Chuckling, Gerrald said, "One thing's for sure. It's never been dull around here since you arrived."

"You can say that again," Trillene chimed in, a broad grin on her face.

We heard a second knock, and Holder Gerrald excused himself to answer it. Opening the door, he found a mounted runner bearing a sealed envelope for him. Taking the envelope, Gerrald thanked the runner before returning to the dining table.

"What is it, dear?" Nylene wondered, curious about the object in her husband's hand.

"Something important," he replied, noticing the embossed wax seal on the back of the gilded envelope. "Stars above! It's from Ruatha Hold!"

"Ruatha?!" Mostef exclaimed, his fork clattering noisily to the tabletop. "What could they want?"

Silence fell across the room, everyone turning to stare at me. I shrugged while Gerrald broke the seal and opened the envelope.

"By the First Egg!" he whispered, his eyes growing immense.

"Sweetheart, what is it?" Nylene asked, setting her towel on the table.

"It's an engraved invitation!" Gerrald exclaimed, eyes threatening to pop from their sockets. "Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra are inviting us all to attend a Gather they will be hosting at Ruatha Hold a sevenday from now!"

"A Gather?!" Varla exclaimed, nearly falling out of her seat. "At Ruatha?"

"Wow!" little Trillene whispered, eyes glittering with anticipation.

"There's a Fall tomorrow," Gerrald remarked, studying some charts on the wall. "If we're to get there in time, we'll have to leave right after."

All the children burst into cheers and applause, dancing about the dining room. Everyone, that is, except Ryeena. She remained silent, eyes on her plate, Bolter lovingly nuzzling her cheek.

"Don't worry, Ryeena," Gerrald quietly said, his light touch on her shoulder making her look up. "You'll be coming with us. Lady Sharra specifically asked that you be there!"

Happiness beaming from her tearful face, Ryeena leapt up, hugging her uncle tightly about the neck. Above the two of them, Bolter swirled, filling the air with delirious keenings of delight.

The next day started out like all the others since I'd come to Holder Gerrald's cot: breakfast early before heading out to the fields. This day was different, however, because Thread was due to fall during the noon meal. At the appointed hour, we returned to the safety of the cot to have lunch and make preparations. Stuffed with Nylene's always delicious cooking, I retreated to my bed to take a nap before we would have to scour the land with the agenothree ground crews. Dragon voices, High Reaches most likely, echoed in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

I was a-wing, soaring through Pern's skies, breathing fire, charring Thread to dust. Other dragons were all around doing the same. I turned, taking another firestone from my rider to replenish my fiery breath. Wait a minute! My fiery breath?! And what was that eerie droning sound?

Something plunked onto my stomach, startling me out of my sleep. It nuzzled my face, creeling insistently. The droning continued, getting louder with each second.

"Bolter, what is it?" I asked, yawning and rubbing sleep from my eyes. "Have the ground crews left without me?"

It wasn't Bolter on my stomach. When my sleep-fogged eyes finally focused, whirling red eyes in a tiny gold head were staring back at me.

"Ancestors!" I gasped, nearly leaping off the bed.

It was the little queen, the one whose clutch I had helped save! Stars above, what was she doing here?

"John! John!" Ryeena cried, dashing into the room. "You've got to see this!"

Spying my unexpected visitor, she gasped, skidding to a stop just past the doorway.

"What?" I wondered as the startled little queen flitted over to the dresser.

Turns out the little queen wasn't alone, bringing me instantly to my feet.

"Beauty?!" I gasped, recognizing Masterharper Menolly's queen beside the one I knew on the dresser.

The droning filled the room, resonating through my bones. Small wonder. With a start, I realized Menolly's entire fair – Rocky, Diver, Brownie, Mimic, Poll, Aunties One and Two, blue Uncle, even Lazybones – were here! But there was nothing lazy about the excited red whirling of his eyes, of all their eyes, dizzily awhir, all of them that same burning red.

"Shells, what's going on?" I asked, turning to my young friend. "Ryeena, is Menolly here?"

"No," she answered, gesturing to the window, "but you should see outside! There's a cloud of fire lizards swirling above the house!"

"Thread?" I worriedly asked, reaching for my blaster.

Ryeena's reply was an emphatic shake of her head.

This made no sense! Why was Menolly's fair here? And what about the little queen? Could the ones outside belong to her?

Those in the room with us were certainly agitated about something, eyes blazing red, their attention fixed not on us … but on the hearth! I whirled, my blaster clattering to the floor as I suddenly recalled something N'ton had once shared with me. Dragons hummed when a queen was laying her eggs. They also did it when the eggs were …

"Hatching!" I exclaimed, diving just in time to grab the egg pot as it rocked itself off the edge of the hearth.

"Uncle, Auntie, quick!" Ryeena shouted, drawing closer as I carefully upended the pot onto the hearth apron. "It's hatching!"

The hold children exploded into the room followed by Gerrald and finally Nylene with a chilled bowl of chopped meat.

"What do I do?" I cried, carefully lifting the wildly rocking egg from the protecting sands.

"When it hatches," Ryeena said, taking the bowl of meat from her aunt and setting it beside me, "feed it. As much as it wants. But not all at once. Make it come to you. Talk to it. Cuddle it."

"By the First Egg!" Gerrald exclaimed, pointing about the room. "Those look like Masterharper Menolly's bunch!"

"They are," Ryeena replied, not taking her eyes off of me.

"What about the ones outside?" Mostef wondered. "And who's that other queen?"

"She's the one I helped!" I answered, not looking up, my eyes solely on the egg.

"Could those others be hers, then?" Varla wondered.

"It's cracking!" I exclaimed, striations clearly visible all over the egg's surface.

Heart pounding, suddenly unsure if I was really deserving of such a gift, I turned to Trillene, holding the egg out to her.

"Hey, I'll take it!" Mostef said, reaching forward.

But Trillene slapped his hands away, the little queen I'd helped shrieking a warning.

"It belongs to John!" Trillene argued as she gently closed my fingers about the egg. "It's his gift, not yours." A warm smile on her face, she added, "I envy you, John."

Just then, the egg convulsed in my hands, the shell practically exploding as the hatchling burst forth, flopping onto its back in my trembling hands.

"A queen!" Ryeena gasped.

All of the gathered fire lizards let out a jubilant trill, celebrating the birth. Hissing loudly as she flipped over, the hatchling glared at those around her. In that same moment, dizzying waves of gut-wrenching hunger washed over me, all of it coming from her. Blindly, I scooped up some meat and held it out to her. With a cry of defiance, she snapped at the first piece, gulping it down, her legs and tail fastening about my forearm like a vise. It would be impossible to dislodge her now.

To my amazement, I found I didn't want to. A curious and delightful sense of togetherness had swept over me the moment our eyes had met. Was this a glimpse of what Impression was like?

Softly, I talked to the little queen, feeding her, stroking her, gently reassuring her. As her birthing hunger slowly waned, her eyes shaded from red to a more contented blue-green color. When her appetite was at last satisfied, she gave a drowsy chirp and curled up in the crook of my arm where she quickly fell asleep.

There was a flutter of wings then something landed on my shoulder. The queen whose clutch I'd help save peered down at her sleeping daughter. She turned to me, her eyes a deep blue, a quiet satisfied hum in her throat.

"You knew, didn't you?" I asked, choking on emotion, tears coming to my eyes.

The little queen nuzzled my cheek, took one last look at her daughter, gave a nod and a happy trill, then winged out the open window.

Only then did I realize the hatchling and I were alone! No fire lizards. No humans, either. How much time had gone by?

Slowly, carefully so as not to disturb the little hatchling, I moved to the window. Outside, the skies were clear, no dragons in sight, their voices distant and few. The Fall was over. Holder Gerrald and his family would have gone out to check for any Thread that might have gotten through the High Reaches riders. I had been so caught up in the hatching I hadn't even noticed them leave!

Turning from the window, I carefully moved over to sit on the bed, my back against the headboard, the little fire lizard cradled in the crook of my arm. So tiny yet so beautiful.

"Whatever am I going to call you, little one?" I sighed, gently stroking her tiny neck.

Images of her departing dam came to mind. Emerging into the light outside, her wings had turned to shimmering gold, the same sort of coloring as her daughter. I smiled.

"I think I will call you Goldie," I decided.

Even asleep, the little hatchling sighed with delight as if approving the choice. That was how Holder Gerrald and the rest of his family found us when they returned from flame-thrower duty.

"Thread?" I asked, looking up as they re-entered the room.

"Not a one," Gerrald assured me.

"How is she, John?" little Trillene whispered as she settled to the floor a short distance away.

"Sleeping," I sighed, a beatific expression on my face. "Stars above, I had no idea it would be like this!"

"I know what you mean," Ryeena said, stroking Bolter's neck ridge as he nuzzled her cheek. "But why did Beauty and her fair show up?"

"I have a theory about that," I softly spoke, gently stroking the sleeping hatchling.

"I could understand why the fire lizards you helped would be here, John," Bellar mused, gazing out the window. "But what brought the Masterharper's bunch?"

"I'd heard that fire lizards prefer the warmer southern climates," I remarked. "They don't usually clutch so far north. I'm willing to bet the little queen I helped came from one of Beauty's clutches."

"Coooo!" Bolter trilled, gazing shyly over my arm at the little queen.

"She's beautiful, John," Nylene remarked, equally captivated.

"Have you given her a name yet?" Trillene asked.

I nodded, gazing with renewed tenderness at my little bundle of joy. "Goldie." Then, tears in my eyes, I looked at Ryeena and said, "She knew."

"Who?" she wondered. "Knew what?"

"The queen I'd helped," I answered, lightly stroking the hatchling's neck ridge. "She knew it would be a gold. Of all the eggs in her clutch, she gave me the most precious one. Spirits of my ancestors, no wonder she seemed so sad to part with it."

"But part with it she did," Nylene said, a warm smile on her face as she laid her hand on my cheek. "That says a lot about what you did for her."

"She must really have been grateful to you, John," Trillene agreed, placing her hand on mine.

Turning to Holder Gerrald, I sighed, "Guess you'll have to go on to the Gather without me."

"And leave you behind?" he wondered. "Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra would never forgive me! Don't worry. There's plenty of room in the wagon with the children, and I'm sure they'll be more than happy to help you take care of Goldie."

All the children were nodding enthusiastically.

"Well, if we're going anywhere," Nylene said, setting her agenothree pack aside, "we'd better get started."

In almost no time, the agenothree packs were put away, sweat and grime washed from hard-working bodies, wagons loaded, runners mounted, and off we headed to the Gather!

As we made our way across the Pernese countryside, it quickly became obvious that our reputations had preceded us. At every stop along the way, I was asked time and again to regale the holders with tales of my star-spanning journeys. Holder Gerrald received several offers from those who wished to abide with such an honored holder (a title he scoffed at). Others proposed fostering his children in exchange for their own fostering in such a prestigious hold. Varla, Mostef, and the other children were constantly besieged with questions from their peers. And always, always, eager hands were around to help feed Goldie.

My little companion grew quickly, trading the crook of my arm for the padded shoulder rest of my leather jerkin, her tail twined ever gently about my neck.

As we traveled the last leg of our journey to Ruatha, I made a few discreet inquiries among the local holders along the way. Mid-morning one day, the little caravan from Misty Hold pulled up beside a small cothold on the outskirts of Ruatha while I went to knock on the door. The young woman inside gasped as the door swung open.

"Hello, Lana."

"Who is it, Mommy?" a familiar voice inquired as a little girl appeared by her side.

"Hi, Doreen!" I said grinning at the surprise on her face.

"John!" she exclaimed with delight, running out to give me a hug.

"She talks about you constantly," Lana laughed, ruffling her daughter's hair. "If she isn't off pretending to be a star traveler like you, she's imagining she's meeting some strange new alien race."

"Who are those people?" Doreen wondered, peering around me.

"My friends," I replied, indicating Holder Gerrald and his family. "We're on our way to Ruatha Hold. Lord Jaxom has invited us to the Gather he's having there day after tomorrow."

"A Gather?" Lana gasped, looking down at her daughter. "You're certain?"

"Well, if the weather continues as it has," I replied, scanning the skies, "it should be a perfect day for one!"

"Can I ride on your shoulders some more?" Doreen begged, tugging at my arm.

Smiling, I knelt in front of my little friend.

"I wish you could, little one," I quietly said, "but someone else has laid claim to that spot."

"Who?" Doreen wondered and then gasped, staring in amazement as Goldie poked her head out from behind my own, cheeping in a curious tone. Eyes riveted to my little companion, she whispered, "You have a fire lizard?"

Sensing a friend, Goldie unwound her tail. Then, as Doreen reached her hand up to pet my fire lizard, Goldie scampered across her arm, perching on one of the little girl's shoulders.

"Mommy, look!" Doreen exclaimed, a beaming smile on her enchanted face as Goldie head-caressed her cheek. "She likes me!"

"So I see!" her mother laughed.

"What's her name?" Doreen wondered as she scratched my little friend's coyly curved neck ridge.

"Goldie," I replied as I stood. Then, to Lana, I added, "I hope I didn't take you away from anything. I just wanted to say hello while we were here. Will we see you at the Gather?"

"Can we go, Mommy, can we?" Doreen begged, Goldie adding a plaintive 'Chirp?'

"Of course, honey," Lana replied, tossling her daughter's hair.

With a happy cry, Goldie took wing, circling the three of us before carefully coming to rest on Lana's bare shoulder, thrumming her thanks as she nuzzled Lana's blushing cheek.

"Look, Mommy!" Doreen said, pointing as she smiled. "She likes you, too!"

"So she does," Lana quietly replied, gently stroking Goldie's neck ridge. "She is beautiful! Where did you find her?"

"She was a gift, actually," I explained, transferring Goldie back to my shoulder. "I helped save her mother's clutch from wherries. In return, she gave me Goldie's egg."

"Could I have one someday, too, Mommy?" Doreen asked, pulling at her mother's hem. "Please?"

"If you're very good, we'll see, dear," Lana responded.

"They know who their friends are," I said, my hand resting lightly on Doreen's head. "When I see Lord Jaxom, I'll let him know where to find a good home if he happens to come across a fire lizard egg."

Doreen's eyes lit up, glistening with hope.

"You mind your mother now."

The little girl nodded vigorously, a delightful smile on her cherubic face.

"We'll see you at the Gather!" I said, winking as I stepped off the porch.

Many travelers were on the road, mostly the local holders. But as I rode abreast the lead wagon on Kismet, it seemed that we were the only ones from outside Ruatha. A special invitation just for us?

As our wagons lumbered up the road to Ruatha Hold proper, a bronze and a brown rocket arrowed out the gate to greet us, Goldie and Bolter quickly joining them. It made quite a sight as we lumbered into the Hold's courtyard, a ring of fire lizards circling around us.

 _The little ones say our friends have arrived_ , a familiar voice echoed in my head.

Moments later, the hold steward, Brand, appeared, leading a large party of Hold staff. As Holder Gerrald and his family disembarked, the Ruathan beasthandlers came forward to lead the wagons away, promising the animals would be well cared for until our departure.

"John!" Sharra called, waving as she appeared at the top of the steps leading inside. "Welcome back! We've missed you!"

"No less than I've missed everyone here!" I replied, returning the wave.

"Goodness!" Sharra exclaimed as the fire lizards swirled around me, the courtyard echoing with their delightful trilling. "Looks like we weren't the only ones who missed you! But, wait! There's more here than just Meer and Talla."

Hearing their names, Sharra's fire lizards settled to her shoulders. Goldie quickly landed on mine while Bolter came to rest on my upraised arm.

"And who are these?" the Lady Holder wondered, scratching Bolter's eye ridge as she examined Goldie. "Are they both yours? Don't tell me you've been out hunting fire lizard clutches since you left."

"Not intentionally, I assure you," I laughed. Then, stroking my little queen's neck, I added, "Actually, only Goldie here is mine."

"She is lovely, John," Sharra said, gently stroking the side of Goldie's head. Turning to Bolter, she asked, "And who do you look to, little one?"

He responded by flitting over to his mistress' upheld arm.

"Lady Sharra, allow me to present my young friend, Ryeena," I said, my hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

"Welcome to Ruatha, my dear," Sharra greeted her, giving my young friend a warm embrace. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you!"

"Thank you," Ryeena demurely replied, her cheeks aflush.

"Is this your family, then?" the Lady Holder asked, looking past her.

"Holder Gerrald from Misty Hold, good lady," he introduced himself. "I'm Ryeena's uncle. This is my wife, Nylene, and our children."

"Welcome, all of you," Sharra said.

At that moment, even as I felt a familiar rippling across my senses, Goldie looked skyward, warbling a greeting just as Lord Jaxom's lifemate appeared from _between_ high above the courtyard.

"It's Ruth!" Trillene cried out, pointing excitedly to the slowly descending white dragon.

As our four fire lizards streaked skyward, I found myself staring at Holder Gerrald's youngest child. She had looked up at the same moment as Goldie. Had Trillene felt the same thing I had, somehow knowing instinctively what it meant? Given how Orth had singled her out, it would be interesting to see how Ruth would react to her.

Amidst a cloud of swirling fire lizards, the white dragon and Jaxom finally settled to the courtyard.

"John!" Ruatha's Lord called out, pulling off his riding gear to shake my hand. "Glad to see you could make it!"

"Good to see you again, Lord Jaxom," I replied, gripping his hand firmly. "Flying Thread today?"

"No," he replied, stripping off his helmet and jacket. "Actually, I was at Landing overseeing some of the restoration work there. We've been hoping to find some kind of records on how to reactivate AIVAS' voice recognition systems."

"The colony's Artificial Intelligence Voice Address System is still functional?!" I stammered. "Even after all this time?"

"Yes," Jaxom acknowledged, "but not the way it used to be. It stopped speaking to us the day …"

"The day Master Robinton died," I muttered. "Stars, Jaxom, I'm sorry."

I'd forgotten about that. During my stay at the Harper Hall, Menolly had told me how the AIVAS had helped them bring to fruition the final plans to end Threadfall forever on Pern.

"The two of them were a lot alike, Robinton and AIVAS," Jaxom chuckled. "Say, while you're here, maybe you could help us out."

"If I can."

"Think you could reactivate the voice response system?"

"It's pretty antiquated … compared to what's available these days."

"I'm sure AIVAS would love to hear that!" Sharra laughed.

"But the basic design hasn't really changed all that drastically," I told them, recalling what I'd read about the AIVAS before leaving Earth. "Maybe I can help, at that!"

"Stars above, that's a relief!" Jaxom exclaimed, clapping me on the back. "Later perhaps, but not right now. You've had a long journey and will need rest. Brand!"

"Quarters for your guests have already been prepared, Lord Jaxom," the Hold steward informed him. "Places have been set for them in the dining hall."

"Good man. Say, where'd those other two fire lizards come from? Ruth doesn't recognize them."

"The queen is John's, love," Sharra replied, leading my young friend over. "The brown belongs to Ryeena here."

"You made quite an impression on the Weyrleaders, young lady," Jaxom told her, smiling warmly. "Lessa was quite taken with you."

"Thank you, Lord Jaxom," Ryeena replied, bowing to him. "My family and I are honored to be here to share this Gather with you."

"And well spoken, just as Menolly said," Jaxom added, nodding to her. "You'd make a fine Harper if you chose to. I could speak to the Masterharper if you wish."

"A very gracious offer, Lord Jaxom," Ryeena stammered, a bit flustered. "I will … think about it."

Ruth's surprised snort interrupted us.

 _More of the Blood?_ he wondered, trundling over.

"Hello, Ruth," I greeted the white dragon, scratching his eye ridge.

 _This is the one who sang for us,_ he told his rider, eyeing me closely. _The Blood sings strongly in him!_

"Seems Ruth still finds you fascinating, John," Jaxom said, patting his dragon's side.

 _It is not just him,_ Ruth corrected his rider, swinging his head to the right.

With a tiny gasp, Ryeena stood perfectly still as Ruth examined her closely, whuffling her up and down.

 _Not quite as strong, but the Blood is there,_ the white dragon declared, his eyes whirling red with excitement. _A Hatching candidate?_

"Have you ever been requested on Search, young lady?" Jaxom asked.

"No, my lord," Ryeena stammered, her eyes bulging as she stared at the white dragon.

"Ruth thinks you'd make a fine candidate," he told her, Ryeena's eyes growing larger. "He says the Blood is in you."

 _There is another here,_ Ruth reported, moving off.

Swiveling his head around, the white dragon zeroed in, as I expected, on little Trillene.

Her eyes grew immense at Ruth's approach. To her credit, she stood perfectly still, submitting totally to his intense scrutiny.

 _Very strong,_ Ruth reported. _A good heart, too. This one will make a fine rider._

"Lord Jaxom?" Gerrald spoke.

"I should speak to the Weyrleaders when next I see them," Jaxom said as he knelt in front of Trillene. "Finding so many potential Hatching candidates is not something to be ignored."

Everyone from Misty Hold gasped, reminded once more of the incident with High Reaches' Orth.

"We can speak with them on the morrow at the Gather," Sharra interjected, taking her husband's arm. "For now, our guests need food and rest after so long a journey."

"I will show them to their quarters, my lady," Brand responded. "This way, please."

Our accommodations were richly appointed and very comfortable. Once our travel items were put away, we were led to the main dining hall where we were treated to a sumptuous banquet. There was music and singing, part of which I provided with Finder's able help, the fire lizards and Ruth once more singing along. Relaxed and refreshed, everyone slept well that night.


	15. Chapter 15 - Waking AIVAS

Chapter 15

 _ **Waking AIVAS**_

The next day broke crisp and clear, not a cloud in sight. I was up at first light, climbing the steps to the top of the courtyard wall in order to get a good look at the Gather meadow and the racing flats beyond. From all I'd heard, the Gathers at Ruatha were nothing short of legendary!

 _They'll forget me as soon as I'm gone_ , a familiar voice inserted itself into my mind.

Lioth! He must have gotten up early to feed from the Weyr herds. That meant N'ton would be up, as well. Seems we three were all early risers today. Gently, I reached my mind out, attempting to make contact with Lioth. At first, I felt nothing. Then, in a breathtaking rush, I was seeing the world through the dragon's eyes as he ravenously tore into the buck he had brought down and carried off to the far end of the weyr bowl. It was such an amazing experience, I couldn't help smiling.

Lioth turned, having neatly finished off his prize. Leaping skyward, he headed back toward the herd. Unexpectedly, I felt a flash of anger in the dragon as he glanced to one side. Through his eyes, I saw N'ton standing on the ledge of what must be the Weyrleader's quarters.

 _I'm still hungry!_ the great bronze complained as he veered off to a perch above the herd.

A flapping sound drew my consciousness partially back to Ruatha. The Gather pennant was being raised above the fire heights.

Chuckling, I silently said, _Eat too much, Lioth, and you'll never make it over the mountains to the Gather here at Ruatha!_

In that same instant, someone touched my elbow and I heard, "John?"

"Jays!" I cried out, Goldie squealing in alarm as I jumped forward and spun about. Heart pounding, I stood there, rocking unsteadily as I struggled to recall my consciousness back to my own body. When my vision finally cleared, it was Jaxom standing there.

"Are you alright?" he asked, clearly worried. "I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to startle you."

"Not your fault, Lord Jaxom. I'm afraid I was daydreaming and didn't hear you coming. Good morning to you."

"And a fine one it is!" Jaxom sighed, inhaling deeply as he eyed the skies. "Thank the Egg! The weather held just as predicted. Good morning, Goldie."

She nodded to the Ruathan Lord, a soft, pleasing thrum as greeting.

"Listen, John," Jaxom said, getting down to business. "We have a few hours before the Gather is up and running, so I was wondering …"

"You'd like to pop down to Landing."

"If it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all," I said, nodding to him even as Goldie gave an affirming 'Cheep!' "I came to Pern to learn the fate of the original colonists. What better place than Landing?"

"None," Jaxom replied, clapping me on the back.

"Would it be alright if Ryeena came with us? She's already told me so much about Pern. I'm sure she'd be thrilled to visit the place where it all began, and I'm dying to see these visual records Sharra says AIVAS possesses."

 _I can carry three as easily as two_ , Ruth reported. _Besides, the little one would enjoy Landing._

"Well, Ruth is certainly willing," Jaxom chuckled. "You find Ryeena. I'll get Ruth."

The six of us – three humans, two fire lizards, and one dragon – reconvened a short time later in the Hold courtyard. Because of Ruth's smaller size, Jaxom insisted we each wear a riding belt that could be fastened into Ruth's harness.

"Couldn't we come with you?" Trillene begged, tugging on my arm as Jaxom was securing Ryeena's riding belt to Ruth's harness. "I've never been to Landing."

"I'm sure Ruth would gladly take you all if he could," I told Trillene, her family gathered behind her. "He just isn't big enough."

 _I think I could manage the little one,_ Ruth commented, eyeing Trillene. _We could drop them off and come back for more. In just a couple of trips, all our friends could see Landing!_

"And you'd have to make those same trips bringing them back," Jaxom laughed at his dragon's eagerness. "Sharra would skin me alive tiring you like that!"

"I'm sorry, Trillene," I sighed, giving her a hug. "I wish there was another way."

And then, it hit me. Lioth! But how?

 _I will speak to my rider,_ the bronze dragon silently informed me.

It was all I could do to disguise my horrified gasp with a fit of coughing. How could Lioth have heard me? I was positive I had broken the link. Could some residual trace have remained?

"You alright, John?" Jaxom inquired, a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"My fault," I croaked, managing a tremulous smile. "Inhaled when I should have swallowed. I'll be fine. We'd better get moving, or you'll be late to your own Gather."

I was just about to climb aboard Ruth when four dragons materialized in the skies above Ruatha. A bronze and two browns settled to the Gather meadow while Lioth carefully backwinged to the Hold courtyard, N'ton grinning broadly from astride his lifemate.

"Ruth, did you …" Jaxom stammered, clearly surprised by the arrivals.

 _No_ , his dragon responded, just as surprised.

 _Lioth!_ I silently cursed. _You're going to give me away!_

The mighty bronze merely rumbled in amusement.

"Good day for a Gather, Jaxom," N'ton commented, taking note of the Gather flag as he dismounted. "But what's this? The Lord Holder not staying around for his own festivities? Where are you rushing off to?"

"Landing," Jaxom replied, recovering his wits. "We have a few hours before the festivities are in full swing. I've imposed upon John to see if he can help us reactivate AIVAS' voice recognition systems."

"Fair payment, my lord," I said, coming up beside him, "for the honor you have bestowed upon me and my friends by inviting us to the Gather."

"Think there's anything you can do?" N'ton teased me.

Shrugging, I told him, "Won't know till I see what there is to work with."

Spreading her wings for balance, Goldie glared at the Fort rider, chirping angrily as she did. _Of course he's up to it!_ she seemed to say.

Goldie's unexpected appearance got a gasp out of N'ton, Lioth snorting in surprise.

"By the shards of my dragon's egg!" the bronze rider whispered, drawing closer. "Where did you find her?"

"She was a gift," Trillene daringly proclaimed, coming up beside me.

"A gift?" N'ton wondered, glancing first at Trillene then me. "From whom?"

"John helped save a fire lizard clutch from wherries," Trillene informed him, grinning broadly as she retold the story. "The queen was so grateful, she gave John the egg that Goldie hatched from!"

"Grateful indeed if she parted with this little beauty," N'ton commented, scratching Goldie's eye ridge. "Pilgra said you were carrying some sort of bundle that day she picked you up off the beach. Think I'll send some of my riders back that way to see …"

"Bronze rider, you mustn't!" Trillene exclaimed, daringly seizing N'ton's arm. "John promised the little queen that he wouldn't tell anyone where the clutch is."

"The eggs have probably hatched by now," I said, patting Trillene's hand. "Still, I'd hate to see her driven off because her clutching sands were disturbed."

 _It would be nice to have some little friends around,_ Lioth added.

"Alright, young miss," N'ton said, giving Trillene's hand a squeeze. "It'll be our secret, you and I."

"Bronze rider, I am truly sorry she bothered you," Nylene spoke, coming up behind her daughter.

"No bother at all, my lady," N'ton assured her, tousling Trillene's hair. "She's just as brave as Sarina reported. One day, she'll make a fine rider. Say, speaking of riding, how would you and the rest of your family like to see Landing?"

"Really?" Trillene gasped, her eyes huge in her face. "Oh, could we?"

"Well, it's obvious John and Ryeena are going," he said, gesturing at the riding belts we wore. "It wouldn't be fair to leave the rest of you behind."

"Much as we'd all like to see it, Lord N'ton," Gerrald spoke, coming up beside his wife, "we wouldn't want to keep you from any Weyr business."

"Ah, but Landing is the Weyr's business," the Fort rider replied. "Jaxom, do you have a small belt that will fit Trillene? My riders and I can take the rest of Holder Gerrald's family."

"I'm sure we have one that will do," the Ruathan Lord said, taking Trillene's hand. "Why don't you come with me and we'll see what we can find, alright?"

Trillene was more than willing, turning and leading the Lord Holder of Ruatha straight towards Ruth's weyr.

"N'ton, I'm sorry," I hissed, pulling the Fort Weyrleader aside. "I didn't mean to bother you!"

"Taking a bit of a risk, weren't you?" he whispered back, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

"It was early, no one else was about," I quietly said, glancing back over to the others.

"Still, I'm impressed. Lioth heard you clear as a bell even at that distance! It just surprised him … and me … that's all."

 _Sorry, Lioth,_ I silently apologized.

His response was a quiet rumble of acceptance.

Then, in a more normal volume as he led me back over to Ruth, N'ton added, "Besides, the weather was good, and we'd heard there might be a Gather. You didn't think we'd take a chance on missing it, did you? Ruatha has some of the finest on the planet! Now mount up or we'll all be late getting back to the festivities!"

Being larger than Ruth, the other dragons could easily carry Holder Gerrald's family without special harnesses. In no time, we were all a-wing, soaring high into the early morning skies above Ruatha. Goldie clung to my shoulder, her body streamlined against my neck. On signal from Ruth, all five dragons vanished _between_ , emerging seconds later in the warm tropical skies above Landing. Slowly, to give the newcomers a chance to marvel at the Ancients' first home, the dragons spiraled down to a gentle landing, their wings kicking up a bit of the volcanic dust still lying about.

"Wow!" Trillene gasped, reduced to an awed whisper as she marveled at all the activity at the site.

"This way," Jaxom said, heading off toward a structure with an array of solar panels on the roof.

"Been a while since I've seen one of these," I commented, running my fingers along the curved edge of the front of the building.

"What is it, John?" Varla wondered.

"It's called a Quonset hut," I responded. "Very sturdy, easy to set up and maintain, it would have been an ideal choice for the colonists to use. But it looks like it's been added on to."

Several wings had been built out on either side, and I could make out power lines running from the main structure off in the direction of a dam far in the distance.

"Hydroelectric power?" I asked.

"Hydro … what?" Bellar stammered, confused by the word.

"Power generated by falling water," Jaxom explained. "It was one of the first things AIVAS reintroduced us to."

"Given the demands placed on its systems," I said, nodding, "the extra power would have been necessary. Is the Yokohama uplink still functional?"

"Yes," Jaxom reported. "We use the onboard scanners to monitor weather patterns and to track the progress of the rogue planet's inward spiral." Shaking his head, he added, "I still can't believe we were able to nudge that thing enough to bring an end to Threadfall."

"Quite an accomplishment," I agreed. "Not just altering the course of the rogue but also all the skills you and your people had to relearn to pull it off. Your ancestors would have been proud. Shall we?"

Inside, the AIVAS building was abuzz with activity. Computer terminals in all the annexes were in use, various masters and journeymen accessing the data that AIVAS possessed.

"Piemur!" Jaxom called as a harper journeyman emerged from the room at the end of the hall. "How's AIVAS this morning?"

"Not a peep!" the young harper complained, thumbing behind him. "Some people don't believe me when I tell them all that went on in there. Farli, behave!"

A queen fire lizard squirmed on his shoulder, struggling to get a good look at me, or rather, at Goldie as she poked her head out from behind me.

"Fardles! No wonder she's carrying on!" Piemer exclaimed, spotting Goldie at last. "Another queen fire lizard! And who's this long lout? Don't think I've seen him before."

"Not surprising," Jaxom laughed as Goldie scolded the Harper's impudence. "Piemur, this is John."

"The one from the Ancient's homeworld?!" the young harper exclaimed, his eyes bugging out.

"From Earth, yes," I said as we shook hands. "Lord Jaxom wanted to see if I could do anything to help reactivate AIVAS' voice recognition system. Care to show me the way?"

"Through here," Piemur replied, ducking back into the room he'd just left.

It was an AIVAS alright, an old model given the serial information on one of its panels. Light shining in from the open windows showed its keyboard and primary display screen off to one side. In the upper left corner of the screen, in green letters it said, "Ready."

"It's been like that ever since …" Piemur began then trailed off into silence.

"It's okay, Journeyman Piemur," I assured him. "I've heard the story."

Stepping over to the console, I pulled up a seat in front of the keyboard. Then, with everyone else looking on, my fingers began to fly over the keys, screen after screen of data popping up for my perusal.

"Crackdust! How's he doing that?" Piemur exclaimed, an agitated Farli chittering from his shoulder. "How can you read that so fast?"

"It's not so much reading it all," I explained as my fingers continued to fly and data continued to scroll across the screen, "it's knowing where to look and what to look for."

Ten minutes of tick-a-tacking on the keyboard went by before, "Ah hah! Here we are!"

"What is that?" Piemur wondered, coming up beside me to peer at the screen. "What did you find?"

"The initial bootup sequence used by the computer," I explained, scrolling through the rather lengthy series of commands. "This is how you tell AIVAS what to set up when it first turns on."

"Like the voice recognition system," Jaxom interjected, drawing closer, his excitement building.

"Yes," I acknowledged. "When AIVAS shut down back then, it must have deleted the lines of programming that activated the voice recognition systems. Unless you knew where to look, you could have stumbled around for tens of Turns without realizing what was needed."

"Fardles!" Piemur muttered, shaking his head. "When I think of how long we've been trying to figure out how to …"

"I hate to say this, Piemur," I told him, smiling in an attempt to take the edge out of his disappointment, "even if you'd found this file, it alone wouldn't have done you any good."

"Why not?" Jaxom wondered.

"Even if you'd figured out how to restore the missing lines of programming," I explained, calling up an editing routine, "you'd still have needed the command activation sequence plus the verbal override commands to complete the activation process. For security reasons, only key members of the original command crew would have known what they were. Given what was happening at the time, your ancestors would have been far more concerned with surviving Thread and escaping an erupting volcano. They probably never expected AIVAS to survive, so they wouldn't have felt a need to pass down the necessary information to their descendants."

A collective moan echoed throughout the room.

"That's it, then?" Jaxom sighed, feeling defeated. "There's nothing more we can do?"

Gerrald pointed at me. "If that's true, why is he still playing with that thing?"

A moment of painful silence punctuated by a very audible gasp filled the room.

"By the First Egg," Piemur begged, seizing my arm, "please tell me you know what those codes are."

With a wolfish grin, I finished editing the file I'd been working on and saved it back to the computer's main storage area.

"Tell everyone to get off their terminals for a few minutes," I said. "I'll need to reboot the computer for these new commands to take effect."

"You do know!" Jaxom exclaimed, overcome with relief.

"Happened to be one of the things I uncovered when digging up the details on the Pern Colony," I explained.

"Shaffit!" Piemur cursed, Farli echoing his agitation. "All those months of work, and we had the key right here on Pern all along!" As he hurried from the room, we could hear him cry, "Jancis! Aramina! Log off! We need to power down AIVAS!"

Whatever was happening obviously had all the humans excited, but Goldie thought it would be far more interesting to converse with her larger cousins, so she escaped from all the noise and confusion of the room by flitting out the open windows.

Great protesting and cursing could be heard coming from the other rooms, but when Piemur explained that there was a chance AIVAS would speak again, all the equipment was quickly powered down, masters and journeymen alike crowding into the main room for a glimpse of the miracle.

"Jaxom, I think it would be appropriate for the Masterharper and the Benden Weyrleaders to be present for this," I suggested as I powered down the main AIVAS unit.

"Agreed," he said. "I'll bring F'lar and Lessa."

"While I fetch Sebell and Menolly," N'ton added, both men disappearing from the room.

"John?" Trillene came up beside me, her expression fearful.

"Ah, now don't you worry," I assured her, giving her a hug. "You'll like the Benden Weyrleaders."

Moments later, Sebell, Menolly, F'lar, and Lessa were ushered into the main AIVAS room, Menolly's fair swirling in through the open windows.

"We're ready, John," Jaxom informed me.

Reaching over, I flicked on the master power switch.

"Nothing's happening," one of the craftmasters complained.

"Yes, it is," Mostef disagreed, pointing to the little screen behind me. "Look at that!"

"What is all that, John?" Lessa wondered.

"Well, the AIVAS must first run an internal self-diagnostic routine to be sure all of its components are intact and functional," I explained, pointing to the lines of print that appeared on the screen. "Next, it will run a check to be sure all of its memory circuits are in working order." I tapped the screen where a counter rapidly spun up as the memory check progressed. "Once that is complete, the computer will launch the boot up program. If all goes well, it should then speak aloud, requesting the command activation sequence."

"You hope," one of the craftmasters muttered.

AIVAS instantly put an end to any speculation on that account.

"Boot sequence complete," the machine's voice boomed throughout the room. "Awaiting command activation code."

Reaching for the keyboard, I typed in a special command word sequence then said, "AIVAS, activate voice recognition systems, command override alpha omega six three two nine baker three two zulu nine. Activate."

"Working," AIVAS responded.

"Please," I heard Menolly beg.

There was a long, almost painful, pause, and then, "Command code accepted. Voice recognition systems activated. Please specify if additional voice prints are required to allow access to this facility."

The ancient Quonset hut echoed with cheers of delight.

"Hold," I instructed AIVAS.

"You did it!" Ryeena cheered, hugging me tightly.

"This sounds like what it did the first time we found it," Lessa remarked.

"Yes," I agreed. "However, when AIVAS shut down the last time, it erased all of its voice I.D. files. Mine is the only one it recognizes at the moment. As you are the primary representatives of Hold, Hall, and Weyr, it's up to you to decide who should be permitted command access to AIVAS."

"Hey, now wait just a minute!" one of the craftmasters complained. "Why should it be you lot who decides? We have every right to have access to this thing, too!"

"And so you shall," AIVAS intoned, silencing everyone. "This unit exists to serve. All who request information shall be accommodated. What John refers to are those who would be authorized to alter this unit's programming."

"The wrong sort of alteration could irrevocably damage or destroy the information AIVAS contains," I finished.

Murmurs of concern swept through the room.

"I think we'd best leave that job to you, John," Piemur finally suggested. "You accomplished in less than an hour what we've been trying for Turns to do. If one of us stumbles blindly around AIVAS, we could end up destroying an untold wealth of knowledge left to us by our ancestors."

"I agree," Jaxom added, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Best leave that task in the most capable hands."

"Weyrleader F'lar, Weyrwoman Lessa, do you concur?" AIVAS asked.

"I thought you said the recognition files had been deleted!" Lessa exclaimed.

"Voice recognition files, Weyrwoman," AIVAS corrected her. "This unit still retains visual records of all of you and can recognize each of you from them. Do you concur with Lord Jaxom and Harper Journeyman Piemur that command access should be left with John?"

"Yes, AIVAS, we do," F'lar replied, nodding. "With the experience he brings from the stars, clearly he knows more about your insides than anyone."

"Masters Sebell and Menolly, do you also concur?" the machine inquired.

"Aye, AIVAS, we do," Menolly answered, glancing at her husband. "The knowledge that our ancestors bequeathed to us is a treasure beyond price. It must be safeguarded. John is the only one who is skilled enough for the task."

"So be it," AIVAS agreed. "Now, you must decide among you who will be allowed voice access to this unit. As this is obviously a sensitive matter, please take your time. The original protocol was that at least one Craftmaster, one Lord Holder, and one Weyrleader needed to be present to add to or alter this access list. Unless instructed otherwise, this convention will continue to be followed."

"A sensible precaution, AIVAS," N'ton said.

"AIVAS?" It was little Trillene, but the system didn't respond. She turned to me, her eyes betraying the hurt she felt.

Smiling, I gave her a hug then turned to the machine and said, "AIVAS, this is my young friend Trillene from Misty Hold. I believe she has a question for you."

"How may I help you, little miss?" the machine responded.

"Can you show us the story of our ancestors?" she asked, a wistful tone in her voice. "The one you showed when you woke up before?"

"I would be honored to, young miss," AIVAS replied, the image wall beside me coming to life. A stylized picture of a winged dragon appeared. "To start the presentation, simply touch the symbol you see."

Trillene looked at me, her expression uncertain.

"Go ahead," I urged her, nodding and smiling.

Slowly, she stepped up to the picture, her trembling hand hovering just above the surface as she glanced back at her mom and dad.

"Go ahead, sweetheart," Nylene urged her, nodding.

Trillene touched the picture. "Wow!" she whispered, backing up as the screen came to life.

An hour later, there wasn't a dry eye in the place as the last image of the initial landing faded from view.

"Thank you, AIVAS," Trillene whispered, sniffling back tears.

"I am pleased you liked it, little miss," the machine responded.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful it was," Menolly quietly remarked, her own eyes tear-filled as she leaned against Sebell.

"Now we'd best be getting back to Ruatha," I said, giving my little friend a hug. "We have a Gather to attend!"

"Weather conditions and Threadfall patterns in that area should allow for a fine Gather, Lord Jaxom," AIVAS reported. "I wish you well."

"Thank you, AIVAS," the Ruathan Lord replied, grinning. "Lytol, Piemur, D'ram, I expect to see the three of you there when you can tear yourselves away."

"Of course, Jaxom," Lytol said, a rare smile for his ward.

"Better make sure there are plenty of bubbly pies on hand!" Menolly laughed, giving her Harper friend a hug. "Piemur can eat his weight in them and come back for more!"

Farli's trill of agreement had everyone laughing as we headed outside to catch our dragon ride home.

Back at Ruatha, Ruth was the first to land, discharging Jaxom, Ryeena, Trillene, and me. Then, in rapid succession, the dragons from Fort landed in the Hold courtyard, depositing the remainder of Ryeena's family back on solid ground after a successful and breathtaking journey to Landing.

"We're flying a joint Fall with High Reaches this afternoon," N'ton reported, Lioth being the last to land in the courtyard. "But we'll be back as soon as it's over."

"I'll see to it that they save the best roast wherry for you, N'ton," Jaxom said, clasping hands with his fellow rider. "Take care, both of you!"

 _As if they would do any less_ , Ruth reminded his rider as Jaxom hurried inside.

"That was too close, N'ton," I quietly addressed the Fort Weyrleader once everyone else was out of earshot.

"You've quite a gift there, John," he replied, a genuine smile on his face. "Lioth heard you clear as a bell! Wonder why Ruth didn't?"

"That's tomorrow's worry, dragonrider," I said, slapping Lioth on the neck. "I appreciate what you both did for Ryeena's family. Thank you!"

"Anytime, John," N'ton replied, Lioth leaping skyward.

In seconds, dragon and rider were clear of the fire heights and gone _between_.

 _Why hadn't Ruth heard?_ I silently wondered, glancing over at his courtyard weyr.


	16. Chapter 16 - Leave Me Alone!

Chapter 16

" _ **Leave Me Alone!"**_

The arriving and departing dragons from Fort must have been a signal, for Ruatha Hold and the Gather square came alive with activity as preparations were made for the festivities. From atop the courtyard wall, I could see the Gather square with its stalls and other touches coming together. The vendors were already hard at work hawking their wares, people arriving in almost a steady stream.

"It looks to be a splendid Gather, Lord Jaxom," I remarked as he joined me atop the wall.

"We hope so," he replied, leaning on the balustrade. "A fine Gather lifts everyone's spirits."

"Is something wrong?" I inquired, noting a faraway sadness in his eyes.

"Master Robinton always enjoyed the Gathers," he replied, Goldie crooning sympathy from my shoulder. "They've never been quite the same since he passed away."

"According to Menolly, he was very fond of you," I said, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps you could dedicate the Gather in his name."

"Now why didn't I think of that?" Jaxom replied, thumping me on the shoulder. "A splendid suggestion! Thank you!"

"One helps when one can, my lord."

"You were an enormous help at Landing. And yet, since our return, you've seemed preoccupied. Is it something I can help with?"

Not about Ruth, but there was something else.

"The first time I came here" I explained, glancing out over the Gather square, "I met a holder lady and her young daughter, Lana and Doreen. Remember?"

"Indeed I do," Jaxom responded, following my gaze. "Brand told me about little Doreen and how excited she was when she was invited to feed Sharra's fire lizards. I also knew Lana's husband. He was killed in a hunting accident about a month before your arrival in Ruatha that first time. She's been struggling ever since to keep their little cot going, but it's been very difficult for her. She makes enough to take care of herself and her daughter but not enough to hire people to help tend the land properly. Why do you ask?"

"She and her daughter were very kind to me the first time I came to Ruatha," I sighed. Chuckling, I added, "Doreen couldn't get enough of the fire lizards she met, both Sharra's and mine. She even asked her Mama if she could get one of her own one day. I promised her I'd mention it to you in case you came across a fire lizard egg that needed a good home."

"The first one I lay my hands on, John," Jaxom laughed, clapping me on the back.

Turning to him, I asked, "Do you think you could find a place for Lana and her daughter here in the Hold? If she lived here, perhaps another holder would be willing to buy the land from her. That way, she'd be relieved of the worry of constantly trying to provide for herself and little Doreen."

"As it happens," Sharra interjected as she joined us, "we've been looking for someone to help with the young children fostering here. I've met Lana before. I think she'd be perfect for the job, and little Doreen would be around children her own age again. There's also Holder Bertell."

"Bertell?!" Jaxom scoffed, dismissing the idea. "A good holder, but he's got no patience with kids."

"Maybe so," Sharra responded, linking arms with her husband, "but he has been quietly asking about Lana's lands. I think he's looking for a small place for his son who will be coming of age soon."

"Hmm," Jaxom mused, gazing once more out over the Gather square. "Well, if Lana's amenable to the idea, then I'm all for it. Would you like to present the offer, John?"

"I am honored, Lord Jaxom," I replied, smiling my gratitude, "but, regrettably, I am not the lady's Lord Holder. The offer should come from you."

"Very well," he said, grinning at me. "Shall I send a runner then to summon her before her Lord and Master?"

"Now don't get carried away, love," Sharra chided him, grinning herself.

Goldie interrupted with a long series of chittering notes ending with a quiet snort.

Chuckling, I said, "That won't be necessary. As Goldie just reminded me, Lana and her daughter said they would be at the Gather. It'll be the perfect time to ask."

That said, we all hurried inside to get ready. A short time later, bedecked in our best Gather finery, the visitors from Misty Hold along with the Ruathan Lord and Lady made their way down the causeway road to the Gather square. Once there, it took my little golden friend mere seconds to find Lana and her daughter.

Lana was a bit overwhelmed meeting her Lord Holder in person. When Jaxom presented his offer, Lana was so overcome with joy that she had to be helped to a seat, thanking him profusely all the while.

That part successfully concluded, we then sought out Holder Bertell. Sharra's hunch proved correct. He was indeed looking for a place his son could hold and offered a very respectable sum for Lana's land. Further, as her husband had been a very close friend, he promised that the land would be well cared for, even if he had to work it himself.

"John, I don't know how to thank you," Lana sobbed, hugging me tightly.

"The warmth and kindness you and Doreen showed me the day we first met meant a lot to me," I replied. "I thought it fair to return the favor."

"Thank you," Lana wept, giving her daughter a hug. "Now we really do have a Gather to remember!"

Kneeling in front of Doreen, I said, "I also spoke to Lord Jaxom about a fire lizard for you."

"Really?!" she gasped, clutching her hands to her chest, her eyes brilliant with hope.

I nodded. "First one he lays his hands on."

Doreen gaped at the Ruathan Lord.

"My word of honor, young miss," he promised, bowing respectfully to her.

"Mommy!" Doreen sighed, smiling with delight as she looked up at her mother.

"Masterharper Menolly tells me her friend, Journeyman Harper Piemur, could eat his weight in bubbly pies," I told Doreen.

"That's no lie!" Sharra laughed.

"Think you could show me where to find some before they're all gone?" I asked Doreen.

Looking around, she sniffed the air. "This way," she said, taking my hand.

Doreen had no trouble finding the baker's stall. And, to celebrate Lana's good fortune and new position, Jaxom treated everyone to bubbly pies.

"Mmm!" I hummed, some juice trickling down my chin as I bit into the still steaming pie. "They're delicious!"

Even Goldie found them delectable, humming in delight as she nibbled on the piece I gave her.

Sometime later, as the visitors from Misty Hold were wandering the stalls together, I heard someone remark, "Quite a Gather!"

"It certainly is," I replied.

"Is what?" Varla wondered.

"Quite a Gather," I said, turning to her. "Isn't that what you just said?"

"Uh uh," she denied, shaking her head.

"I thought sure …" I began.

 _Plenty of room to sun on the heights_ , a voice clearly inserted itself in my mind.

"John?" Nylene inquired, noting my wider than usual eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," I replied, blinking my eyes and shaking my head. "Must be hearing things."

Those 'things' were the arriving dragons, several dozen in fact by mid afternoon. I didn't recognize any of them, which was hardly a surprise, until one particular bronze arrived, bearing his rider and a passenger.

"Well, fancy this!" Silvina exclaimed as she and N'ton angled our way. "What brings you all to Ruatha, John?"

"Nothing less than an engraved invitation from the Lord and Lady Holder," I replied, enveloping the Harper Hall headwoman in a warm embrace. "Seems they wanted to meet Ryeena and her family after what they'd heard about her from the Weyrleaders."

"How are you enjoying yourselves?" N'ton asked, a warm smile on his face.

"It's the most beautiful one I've ever been to," Nylene sighed, looking about. "I can hardly believe we're actually here!"

"Are my eyes deceiving me?" Silvina gasped, peering intently at me. "Is that…"

'Cheep?' Goldie inquired, peering past my ear.

"A queen fire lizard!" Silvina exclaimed, grinning broadly. "By the First Egg! How did you … Where did you …"

"I'd love to tell you about it," I chuckled, a hand raised to calm her down.

"But he promised Goldie's mom he wouldn't," Trillene finished as she appeared at my side.

"Well, however you came by her, she is lovely," Silvina declared. "It's nice to see all of you again, but now it's time to pay our respects to the Lord and Lady Holder. We'll catch up with you later."

As the afternoon wore on, more dragons and riders arrived, filling the fire heights above Ruatha, their voices just as quickly filling my head. It finally became such a distraction that I had to excuse myself on the pretense of finding Silvina and N'ton. Someone was bound to notice if I didn't slip away.

Blindly, I wandered the Gather, passing from one stall to the next. But no matter where I went, the dragon voices droned on … half heard conversations between themselves and their riders, clearly heard talk between each other. They were all excited because they could sense that something was different here today. The distractions, the pressure, kept building until I couldn't take it anymore!

"Leave me alone!" I shouted, fists pressed to my temples.

Blindly, I ran from the Gather square, careening through the crowd, Goldie trilling in distress as she circled above. Suddenly, the air filled with the thunderous roars of all the dragons perched on the Ruathan fire heights, sending people scrambling for cover or frantically gazing skyward searching for Thread!

But no matter how far or fast I ran, there was no escaping the voices in my head. Eventually, I had to stop, heaving air into my lungs as I leaned against one of the posts that made up the animal pens at the farthest edge of the Gather meadow. Goldie landed on the rail in front of me, her whirling eyes yellow with anxiety as she tried to understand what was wrong.

"John?"

Heart leaping to my throat, I whirled. Silvina and N'ton were standing there, both breathing hard.

"What's wrong?" Silvina asked, her expression deep with concern. "Are you alright?"

I shook my head, glancing up at the dragons perched along the rim of the fire heights, every eye a burning red as they searched the land below.

"We heard you cry out, saw you run," N'ton said, placing a steadying hand on my shoulder. "What did you mean, 'Leave me alone'?"

"The dragons," I moaned, leaning my head against the post. "They know I'm here."

"Well, they certainly know someone is here," N'ton said. "Lioth heard, and given the reactions of the other dragons, I'd say they all did! But that doesn't mean they know it's you. I've already spoken with several of the riders. Their dragons all feel a strong presence in this place, but they haven't been able to isolate its source. Lioth is the only one who knows the truth."

 _And I'll never tell,_ he rumbled.

"I know, and I'm grateful," I sighed, rubbing my face with my hands, "but I'm having trouble blocking out their thoughts."

Goldie didn't understand my distress, stroking my cheek with her head, trilling softly as she did.

"It couldn't be that bad, could it?" Silvina wondered, resting a comforting hand on my arm.

"Silvina, it's like they're all crowded around me, talking in my ears!" I groaned, glancing over where the remaining Gatherers were slowly beginning to relax and return to their interrupted pursuits. "Even on the Gather square with all the noise and music. I hear the dragons more clearly than the people around me!"

"Oh, John," Silvina sighed, giving me a warm hug. "You just need time, that's all. You said it yourself. You've never had this gift before, so you've never had a chance to practice all those things your teachers tried to show you."

"John, I really think you should come back to Fort with me," N'ton said, firmly gripping my shoulder. "You already have a champion in Lioth. In the weyr, you'd be among friends who would understand and could help you."

"I know, N'ton," I told him, placing my own hand companionably on his shoulder. "And I'm grateful for the offer. It's just that … I know it doesn't make any sense, but something keeps telling me the time isn't right … that I haven't found my destiny yet. Shells, I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for!"

Goldie trilled sweetly, head-caressing my cheek. She wasn't worried.

"Maybe you should come back to the Harper Hall," Silvina suggested. "The masters could help figure out where you best fit into our society."

"An interesting notion, Silvina," I said, giving her a smile, "but there's something about this feeling, something to do with dragons, only I won't find the answer at Fort Weyr … or the Harper Hall."

"Does this … feeling … give you any inkling where you'll find what you're looking for?" she asked.

I nodded. "Northeast." Hearing their startled gasps, I added, "Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

Instinctively, Goldie rose up on her haunches, eyes dizzily awhir, wings spread as she hissed a challenge to that ancient foe.

"Does it have something to do with Thread?" N'ton asked, brow furrowed with concern.

"I think so," I admitted, stroking Goldie's neck ridge to calm her, "but not directly. Shards, I must sound like some raging lunatic to the two of you, rambling on like this."

"It might have something to do with those dreams of yours," Silvina offered. "The ones you told us about that day you first met the Weyrleaders. Lessa may be right that they're really premonitions, glimpses of things you would experience here on Pern."

"Hmm, I'd nearly forgotten about that," N'ton said, rubbing his chin. "When will you be leaving to follow this hunch of yours?"

"In the morning," I replied, turning about to my two friends.

"Have you told anyone else?" Silvina asked, laying a gentle hand on my arm.

I shook my head.

"Time enough tomorrow for that," I sighed, glancing over at the Gather square. "This has been a rare treat for Holder Gerrald and his family. I don't want to spoil it for them."

"She'll want to go with you," Silvina said. "You know that."

"Yes," I muttered. "I just hope I can persuade her otherwise."

I would miss my young friend terribly, but if Thread was involved with this feeling I had, I didn't want Ryeena anywhere near it.

Just then, a little brown blur zipped around us. Chittering noisily in his scolding tone, Bolter hovered in front of me, his eyes red and dizzily awhirl.

"So here you are!" Ryeena exclaimed as she came running up. Taking my hand, she added, "Come on! You promised me a dance!"

Goldie took wing as I reluctantly allowed myself to be led to the Gather square.

Ryeena teased and cajoled me into several dances, each one leaving me breathless and, for the moment, happy. Distracted by the activity, I even forgot about the dragons, until …

"My friends," Jaxom boomed from the platform the Harpers still occupied, "not long ago, my lady Sharra and I had the privilege of entertaining a very special guest in our Hold, one who came to us from the world where Admiral Paul Benden was born."

Seated beside me, Ryeena gave me a knowing hug.

"During that delightful evening, we were introduced to a remarkable song brought to us from another world in this vast cosmos," Jaxom continued, nodding to me. "Dedicated by the one who sang it to our beloved Master Robinton, it has come to be known for the one who taught it to the singer … 'Keymon's Song'. Perhaps if we ask nicely, our friend from the stars will regale us once more with this delightful song. Well, how about it, John?"

Everyone was on their feet, applauding and begging me to accede. Sharra's Meer and Talla, Ryeena's Bolter, and my own Goldie, flitted back and forth between us and the platform the players were on. Jaxom was gesturing for me to join him. As I reluctantly permitted Ryeena to drag me there, a knot of worry began to form in the pit of my stomach. Isolated atop the platform, would the assembled dragons realize the source of power they felt was me?

Turning to face the crowd, I glanced briefly at the fire heights, the dragons ranged along its rim, their eyes redly ablaze with anticipation. Jaxom's Ruth had joined the singing the last time. What would these dragons do?

At that precise moment, a curious dizziness swept over me. Behind me, the opening notes of the music began. Shoving my worries aside, I did my best to recall all that Master Shonagar had taught me, my breath drawn just so, and I began to sing. On my shoulder, Goldie rose to her haunches, and, to my wondrous delight, began to croon along with me. Bolter quickly joined us, taking the other shoulder where he added his voice to ours. Seconds later, Meer and Talla joined in, trilling in glorious descant to the melody from their perches on Sharra's shoulders. On their heels came Ruth, his delicate crooning drawing startled gasps from those around him, Jaxom and Sharra beaming with pride.

The spell of the song swept quickly through the crowd, the dream-like quality of the music holding all in thrall. On the third verse, deep basso rumblings reached our ears. High on the fire heights, every single dragon was back on his or her haunches, wings spread, their eyes awhirl in a blissful blue-green color. They were singing, too, their notes resonating right down to our bones, heightening the dreamlike state of the song. It was an indescribable experience!

As the song drew to a close, I spotted a woman at the back of one of the Gather stalls, a tall elderly man beside her. No longer distracted by performing, the dizziness returned. Rubbing my eyes a moment, I looked up only to find that the woman, the man, and the dizziness were gone, replaced by applause and cheers from the crowd. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I somehow knew that mysterious duo.

The Gather continued on well into the evening, glowbaskets casting their light all over the place. But with Threadfall due in just a few days, the revelers reluctantly began to make their ways home.

That night, the faces of the mysterious woman and man haunted my dreams. Who were they? I felt sure I should know them.

The following morning, Holder Gerrald and his family rounded up their runnerbeasts and wagons from the beasthandlers on the Gather meadow of Ruatha. Final checks were run to make certain the journey home would be uneventful. But something was missing.

"Where's John?" Ryeena wondered, standing in the stirrups of her little runnerbeast's saddle.

"Here," I called, walking up to them with Lord Jaxom, Goldie circling above us.

"Where's Kismet?" Gerrald asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

"He's fine," I reported, stopping beside their wagon. "I just wanted to wish you all a safe journey."

"You're not coming back with us?" Nylene asked, glancing over at Ryeena.

"No," I replied, an apologetic smile on my face. "From here, I journey east."

"How far east?" Ryeena asked, reining her runner up just short of us.

"Benden Weyr," I replied, drawing a startled gasp from those from Misty Hold. "There's something I need to speak to the Weyrleaders about … something personal."

"But, John, I thought …" Ryeena stammered, panic in her voice even as Bolter crooned softly to her.

"You have to return to Misty Hold, Ryeena," I said, a solitary tear sliding down my cheek. "Holder Gerrald and his wife are your family. You belong with them, not off traipsing about the planet with a stranger old enough to be your father."

"I don't care!" Ryeena argued, leaping down from her runnerbeast. "You're my friend. I want to go with you!"

"Ryeena, please," I begged her.

"No!" she shouted, stomping her foot for emphasis. "I'm coming with you!"

"Holder Gerrald …"

"Once her mind is set on something, not even Threadfall can change it," he chuckled, shaking his head. Gerrald stared at us, not saying a word for a long while. A quiet sigh escaping his lips, he finally said, "Nylene and I knew this day was coming. We weren't sure we'd have the courage to face it. But after seeing the two of you together, we just couldn't deny Ryeena the happiness she's found at last. She belongs with you, John."

Ryeena let out a squeal of delight, nearly crushing me in her embrace, Goldie and Bolter swirling above us, caroling their elation.

Her family gathered round us, each of them giving Ryeena a hug and wishing her well. Gerrald and Nylene were the last, tears in their eyes as they said their goodbyes.

"You be good, now," Nylene told her, kissing Ryeena's forehead. "Listen to what John tells you."

"I will, Auntie," she replied, giving her aunt a hug. "I promise."

"Take good care of our little girl, John," Gerrald said, a solitary tear sliding down his cheek as we shook hands. "Let us hear from you from time to time."

"I'm sure Goldie and Bolter will be more than happy to oblige," I told him, stroking my little friend's neck while Ryeena scratched Bolter's eye ridge.

"Right," Gerrald sighed, climbing into the driver's seat of his wagon. "We'd best be going."

"Safe journey, Holder Gerrald," I said, waving to him and his family as Ryeena and I backed up.

"Be careful!" Trillene called from the back of the wagon as it pulled away.

"We will!" Ryeena shouted back, waving her arm over her head.

The two of us stood there on the Gather meadow watching the wagons until they disappeared from sight over a distant hill. Only then did Ryeena burst into tears, hugging me tightly as she sobbed forlornly.

"Come on," I finally said, lifting her chin so she'd look at me. "Time we got going, as well."

Our runners were quickly saddled, travel supplies loaded in our saddlebags. As Ryeena and I mounted, Jaxom said, "I hope you find what you're looking for, John. Take care of yourselves. Give my regards to F'lar and Lessa when you see them."

"We shall, Lord Jaxom," I replied, reaching down to shake his hand. "Thank you for inviting us to the Gather. I'm certain Holder Gerrald and his family will never forget it."

"Safe journey, you two," Jaxom said, backing up.

It had begun as a Gather journey. Now, as Ryeena and I headed our runners up the road away from Ruatha, away from family and friends, away from everything we had known before, we were setting off on a different kind of journey – one of discovery. Somewhere on the road ahead lay our destinies. All we had to do now was find them.


	17. Chapter 17 - The Gift Revealed

Chapter 17

 _ **The Gift Revealed**_

WHERE _DID_ I FIT IN? That question had been rattling around my brain ever since I'd crash-landed on this far-flung world.

The original Pern colonists had meant to establish an agrarian society on their new home world, and they'd succeeded. But where did I fit in the current scheme of things? I had no skills as a farmer, no husbandry experience. Weaving was out. I didn't know a shuttle from a woof. While I could wield hammer and nail, I was certainly no carpenter. And I had little desire to delve the bowels of this world as a miner. Smithing? Nope. Fishing? Nothing there. So far, the only skills I had demonstrated were wielding a blaster, singing a song, and reprogramming a computer. Though useful from time to time, you could hardly make a living from them on a world like Pern. The answer was out there … somewhere. I just had to find it!

Our journey across the Northern Continent was both slow and deliberate. Heading northeast from Ruatha, Ryeena and I roamed as far north as the cold would allow and as far south as the Great Western Current, zigzagging our way slowly eastward. When no settlements were around, we slept outdoors, hunting for food to feed ourselves and our little friends. In this, at least, my blaster came in handy. And, under Ryeena's skillful tutelage, I soon learned how to gut and prepare what we caught.

When Thread fell, we always managed to find shelter of some kind just before it began. Goldie and Bolter served as our early warning system. Being outside during a Fall at first terrified Ryeena but slowly she began to lose her fear of Pern's ancient enemy. Thread never came close, my blaster and our two fire lizards saw to that. And through it all, Ryeena never complained. She was happy just being with me.

The settlements we came across were widely scattered. Some belonged to well-to-do holders, others those just getting by, but we always found welcome when we knocked. There were beastholds and mineholds, smithhalls and weaverhalls, places of every size and description. We spent a little time in each, studying what the inhabitants did for a living. And then, we'd move on, ever searching for that tiny clue that said, "This is where I belong!"

The Weyrs we avoided. Ryeena seemed curious about that omission, but, to her credit, kept her own counsel on the matter.

We kept her family informed about our journeys, alternately sending Bolter and Goldie to Misty Hold with messages. Ryeena was always delighted to read the ones our little friends brought back.

Our most recent stop was a fair-sized beast and farming hold on the Keroon peninsula. Once home to Lady Moreta, the queen rider spoken of in 'The Ballad of Moreta's Ride', it had been renamed Moreta's Hold in her honor. My quest was a perfect excuse to check it out. Many a friend from the Harper Hall had described the beauty of the place, and I had been keen to see it for myself. When we finally arrived, however, I discovered the majesty of the place had been vastly understated.

The holders who lived there, like everywhere else Ryeena and I had been, received us warmly. In return for food and shelter for the night, we agreed to help with some of the chores and to join the flame-thrower crews the next day once Threadfall had passed.

Morning came. Immediately after breakfast, we gathered in the Hold's main room to prepare for the coming Fall. Flame-throwers had to be checked out and adjusted to make sure they were in good working order. You didn't get a second chance with Thread.

Curious, I asked the lord holder about his healing supplies. While he didn't expect any injuries among the flame-thrower crews, he assured me that supplies were ample enough to help the Igen and Istan dragons and riders should that prove necessary. I didn't bother telling him about the ominous foreboding I'd had, that those supplies were going to be needed.

Ryeena and I didn't need an alarm to tell us when Threadfall was approaching. We had our fire lizards. The closer it got, the more agitated they became, their eyes dizzily awhirl in a brilliant red, soft hissing coming from their throats. I knew of the impending Fall even before our little friends. The excited voices of dragons from Igen and Ista that filled my head near to bursting were impossible to ignore!

"I shouldn't worry if I was you," the lord holder assured us as final preparations were being made. "We've been through plenty a Fall. You'll be safe in here."

Just then, the main door banged open, a winded runner leaning against it for support.

"Leading edge!" he shouted, pointing out the door even as the wailing Threadfall alarm sounded. "On the horizon! You can see dragon fire!"

"Ready?" I asked Ryeena.

"Ready," she replied, hefting the flame-thrower strapped to her back.

"What do you think ye're doin'?!" the startled runner exclaimed as I stepped past him and out the door. "Leading Edge is nearly on us!"

"Is he mad?!" another horrified holder wondered. "Where's he going?"

"Where only dragonriders have gone before," Ryeena replied as she followed. "Outside during Threadfall!"

I had to admire my young friend's courage. It took a lot to overcome the deeply ingrained fear that every citizen of Pern had regarding Thread.

In spite of the numerous frantic calls from the holders to come back inside, Ryeena and I moved off from the main building about a dozen dragonlengths. To the northeast, a smudge of grey and flashes of light were visible on the horizon. I drew my blaster, checked its setting, and fired off a quick burst. A nearby rock turned to rapidly dispersing scintillating particles. Ryeena checked her flame-thrower, a sizeable gout of flame jetting out as she gave the trigger a squeeze. Circling above us, Bolter and Goldie howled a challenge to their ancient nemesis.

Grey became silver, the wings of dragonriders becoming visible as the leading edge of Threadfall rapidly closed in. My pulse quickened, the familiar adrenaline rush kicking in.

And then, Leading Edge was over us, dragons charring Thread to dust or winking in and out of _between_ to escape its burning touch. It was all I could do to dampen the thundering dragon voices in my head.

A tangled clump of Thread got through, a queen rider moving to intercept. But before she could get close enough, the crimson beam of my blaster flashed out and up, turning the offending mass to a cloud of scintillating particles. I couldn't help smiling as the queen's startled squawk echoed in my mind.

"Bet they weren't expecting that!" Ryeena chuckled.

Behind us, Goldie trilled a warning. A single strand had escaped the far edge of the upper wing of dragonriders. But the tumbling tangle couldn't hope to escape the light-speed destruction my blaster could deal. It, too, was reduced to atomic particles.

Another clump got through, dropping perilously close.

"Mine," Ryeena growled, raising her thrower.

Her flame lashed out, catching the Thread at its base, the fire hungrily racing up the length of the filament, reducing it to ash. By the First Egg, a dragon couldn't have done better!

A lone queen flashed by, her astonished rider holding her flame-thrower aloft, vigorously signaling her approval.

And so it went for nearly an hour. Flashes of blaster fire, gouts of searing flame, but not a single strand of Thread found its way to the ground. Before we knew it, the Fall had passed, the skies above us clear once more.

"We did it!" Ryeena whispered, her face lightly speckled with ash. Then, with a lot more enthusiasm, she shouted, "WE DID IT!"

"Nice job!" I congratulated her as I holstered my blaster.

Goldie and Bolter added their own praises, filling the air above us with ecstatic keening.

"Shards and shells," Ryeena sighed, relaxing her grip on the flame-thrower. "To actually see dragons fighting Thread!"

"Don't forget," I reminded her, adding a hug for emphasis. "We helped!"

"We did, didn't we?" she chuckled, grinning broadly. "I thought …"

Ryeena never finished the sentence, for in the next instant, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her head even as a monstrously agonized cry exploded in my mind!

 _ **LIFEMATE!**_

Bolter's and Goldie's terrified keening filled the air as I fell to my knees, hands covering my ears.

 _Stop, please!_ I silently cried out, doubled over in anguish.

A heartbeat later, there was a sudden rush of air and a blast of cold. As I looked up, a queen dragon and her rider crashed to earth less than a dragonlength away, the impact so hard I felt the ground shake! Goldie and Bolter darted back and forth between us and their giant cousin, chittering hysterically, calling for assistance.

"Ryeena, are you alright?" I asked, helping my young friend to her feet.

"I think so," she replied, a little dazed. Glancing over at the injured queen, she added, "Never heard such anguish before. Thought for sure I was going to end up deaf!"

Gasping, I stared at my young friend. How could this be? The dragon's cry had been telepathic, not acoustic!

"What's wrong?" she wondered.

"Never mind," I said, taking her hand. "Come on!"

We broke into a run, reaching the injured queen in seconds, Bolter and Goldie calling urgently to us.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I gasped, horrified by the sight of the queen's badly mangled wing. "They must have come out of _between_ right in the stuff!"

One wing was a shredded, bloody mess; massive gashes plainly visible in the mainsail, irregular pieces of flesh flapping haphazardly from exposed bones.

Goldie shared my horror, trilling mournfully as she backwinged to my shoulder. 'Why did this have to happen?' she seemed to ask.

"By the First Egg!" Ryeena hissed. "It's a wonder they're even alive!"

Bolter's sympathetic crooning as he surveyed the damage from above provided a discordant counterpoint to the queen's own gut-wrenching cries.

Her rider wasn't in any better shape. A gaping hole had been burned through her flying leathers, and her leg … I looked away, momentarily sickened. Part of her thigh, as long and as big around as my forearm, was gone … devoured by the ravenous Thread, the bone showing through the ragged gash.

"Where are the healers?" Ryeena cried, desperately glancing back at the hold.

"We can't wait," I responded, looking from dragon to rider. "These two need help … fast! Ryeena, get back to the hold. Bring all the healing supplies you can find."

"Back in a flash," she said, dashing off.

Trilling fearfully, Goldie looked from me to the injured queen, her eyes yellow with anxiety.

"Oh, and, Ryeena, …" I called after her.

"Yes?" she asked, pausing in her tracks.

"Bring as much gauze fabric as you can and some of those reed stays I've seen about, the long ones, and a needle and plenty of thread. Oh, and something long and sturdy to stand on. One of those long tables should work. Get someone to help carry it out."

"What do you need all that for?"

"That!" I answered, pointing to the dragon's mangled wing. "Hurry!"

Ryeena didn't argue. She was off like a shot, Bolter winging along above her. Meanwhile, Goldie and I returned to the job at hand, surveying the damage to both dragon and rider.

It was all I could do to keep my breakfast down. In all my star-spanning travels, nothing I'd ever seen came close to the horror I now beheld. Whipping out my belt knife, I cut away the remains of the dragonrider's trouser leg to get a better look at the wound. Blood oozed from numerous exposed veins, but, miraculously, no arteries had been hit.

"The pain!" she moaned. "The pain!"

"Just try to relax," I quietly told her.

Goldie hopped down from my shoulder, and, unexpectedly, began head caressing the wounded rider, chirruping soothingly.

"Good girl," I commented, smiling.

"How is she?"

Distracted by my examinations of the wounded dragon and rider, I hadn't sensed the arrival of a second dragon, a bronze, and his rider. Their appearance was so startling, I nearly fell over backwards.

"You are … ?" I asked after recovering my composure.

"D'ren of Ista Weyr," he answered. "This is Darla, my weyrmate. Her dragon is Laneth. Are you a healer?"

"Of a sort," I told him, tossing the ruined trouser leg away, "and, at the moment, the only one available. Are you hurt?"

"No," D'ren replied, kneeling across from me. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Did you see what happened?" I asked, examining Darla's leg.

"No, I was on a high-level sweep," he explained, moisture glistening at the corners of his eyes, "but no one could have missed their cries!"

He wasn't exaggerating. My head still ached from that mental blast. Even more unsettling, Ryeena seemed to have heard it, too!

"I'll do everything I can for her, D'ren," I assured him, a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Right now, we need to make her as comfortable as possible."

Stripping off his wherhide riding jacket, D'ren folded it into a small pillow and placed it under Darla's head.

"We'd better get hers off, too, or she'll overheat," I said, lifting Darla to a sitting position.

"Done," the bronze rider responded, undoing the front of his weyrmate's jacket.

In one deft move, he slipped the jacket off her, then we laid Darla back down so that Goldie could continue her unique and greatly appreciated ministrations.

"Will she die?" D'ren quietly asked.

"Don't even think it!" I hissed, anger flashing in my eyes. "You have to hold on for her sake!"

Bolter's loud caroling heralded Ryeena's return, about a dozen of the hold's residents – children and adults alike – close behind. All were heavily laden with supplies. Two of the adults were carrying one of the long tables.

"We brought everything we could, John," Ryeena informed me as she and the others deposited their loads on the table.

"Stay with her, D'ren," I told the dragonrider. "I'll be right back."

"Don't worry," he whispered, taking his weyrmate's hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

Ryeena and the others must have emptied the hold of every dollop of medicine to be had. There were heartening quantities of everything from bandages to fellis juice to redwort. Quickly separating all of the items into their respective groups, I took stock of what we had.

"Alright, I think we have enough," I surmised. "Ryeena, I'll need your help. And you, too, D'ren." Turning to the small group of holders, I said, "I'll need a couple of you to hand us items as we need them."

Two of the adults and one of the children volunteered, but the others said they had to return to the hold. I thanked them for their help then turned my attention back to the rider's threadscore.

"Darla, can you hear me?" I asked, kneeling beside her. "Darla?"

Eyes closed, she just moaned, writhing in pain.

Surveying Darla's leg wound, I said, "We'll have to clean this out with redwort."

"In a wound that size?!" D'ren exclaimed, eyes bulging in disbelief.

"If we don't, we risk serious infection and possibly gangrene. She could lose the leg!"

"Shouldn't you give her something for the pain first?"

Glancing about, I asked, "Anyone here know how to dispense fellis properly?"

Silence.

"There is one thing I can try, D'ren," I said. "By applying pressure to a specific nerve in her neck, I can render her unconscious. She'll be free of the pain for awhile, and we'll be able to work on her leg without her feeling too much of it."

"Isn't there another way?" he asked.

"We can't risk killing her with an overdose of fellis, and we can't wait for other healers to arrive."

Darla groaned, nearly crushing D'ren's hand as she squirmed in agony.

"Do it," he told me, tears falling.

Hands shaking, I applied pressure to the proper spot. The pain of the nerve pinch caused Darla to scream briefly, and then she passed out, her head lolling to one side.

 _ **LIFEMATE, DON'T LEAVE ME!**_

Laneth's howl caught everyone by surprise, frightening our little friends _between_. Even covering our ears, the dragon's roar was deafening. But nothing could shield my mind from the soul-wrenching terror it contained.

"LANETH, NO!" I cried as Darla's queen moved off, her intent all too clear.

"John, what …" Ryeena stammered.

But I was heedless of my young friend's cry, running as if pursued by Thread in a mad attempt to head Laneth off. She was gathering herself to leap skyward just as I threw myself in her path.

"LANETH, STOP!" I shouted as loud as I could, audibly and telepathically, flinging my arms wide in what must have seemed a vain attempt to obstruct the dragon's path. "YOU MUSTN'T GO _BETWEEN_!"

 _But my rider_ … she wailed, pausing, wings spread, legs ready to spring.

"… IS ALIVE!" I assured her, slowly lowering my arms. "She didn't go _between_. She merely sleeps."

 _Sleeps? But I don't feel her with me!_

"Look at her, Laneth," I begged, pointing back to where Darla lay. "Please, I beg you! Look closely!"

Hesitantly, the massive queen folded her wings to her back then slowly approached her rider.

"See how this part …" I began, pointing first to my chest then to Darla's, "see how it moves up and down?"

Laneth eyed the motion as if seeing it for the first time.

"That means your rider is breathing. A rider who has gone _between_ can't do that!"

 _She lives?_ Laneth whimpered, desperately seeking reassurance.

"Yes," I replied. "I helped your rider sleep so that she could escape the pain. She'll come back to you soon, but you must be patient."

 _We've never been apart like this before,_ Laneth wept, her eyes a whirling mixture of orange and yellow, mirroring her fear and uncertainty.

"And it frightens you."

Laneth nodded.

In the skies above us, I felt several disturbances and looked up to see dragon pair after dragon pair appear from _between_ , all radiating concern for Laneth.

"But you aren't alone, see?" I told her, pointing skyward. "Your friends from the Weyr have arrived, and they're all worried about you!"

Slowly, Laneth swung her head around, watching as dragons began to gather around us on the hold's grassy slopes.

"And I'll stay with you until your lifemate wakes up."

 _You'll stay with me?_

"Yes. I was only trying to help your rider, Laneth. I made her sleep so she wouldn't feel the pain."

 _She'll be alright?_ Laneth inquired, her worried orange eyes fixed on me.

"Yes. Will you stay? It will help your lifemate if you do."

 _I will stay, then._

"Good," I sighed, nearly collapsing with relief.

As I turned back to Darla, a small hand slapped against my chest, stopping me in my tracks.

"You can speak to dragons?!"

It was more accusation than question. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I looked down into Ryeena's astonished face.

"You can, can't you?" she asked, her eyes searching my face. Then she gasped. "The Harper Hall! T'ledon and Serith! It was you! John, why didn't you tell me? I thought we were friends!"

The look of pain and betrayal on Ryeena's face was almost more than I could bear.

"I had my reasons," I whispered, gently lifting her hand from my chest.

"But, …"

"Please, Ryeena, not now," I said, kneeling beside Darla.

Uncorking a bottle of redwort, I soaked a rag with the liquid then set to work cleaning out Darla's leg wound. She moaned slightly as I worked but did little else. Sometime later, a mountain of dirty cleansing rags beside me, I said, "There, that should do it. Now we need to close this until we can reconstruct the damaged area."

Slathering numbweed into the wound to deaden the pain, I grabbed needle and thread and began suturing it closed. Ryeena's anger soon turned to mild revulsion as she watched me work, D'ren looking over her shoulder in fascination.

With Darla's leg wound only halfway closed, the thread in my needle ran out. As I was rethreading it, the sound of fluttering wings drew my attention. Our two little friends had returned. Bolter landed beside Darla's leg, Goldie backwinging to my shoulder. Ryeena's little friend hopped over to examine my work then turned to me, chirruping anxiously. Goldie, too, seemed uneasy, even upset as she trilled her concern.

"She'll be alright, little friends," I assured them, picking up where my suturing had left off. "How are you doing, Laneth?"

 _She still sleeps,_ rumbled Darla's dragon, her whirling eyes a mixture of orange and green, _but her pain is less_.

"If you can sense that, gentle Laneth," I remarked, shaking my hands to get some feeling back into numbed fingers, "that proves your lifemate still lives."

 _She will wake soon?_ Laneth inquired, crooning anxiously.

"I hope so, my giant friend. By Faranth's Egg, I truly hope so."

Goldie nuzzled my cheek, chirping reassuringly. I smiled, giving her eye ridge a scratch.

A few more minutes of suturing and the wound was finally closed.

"Alright, that'll have to do for now," I sighed, putting the needle away. "Let's get this dressed and splinted."

With Ryeena's help, we slathered some more numbweed over the suture, applied a clean dressing, and bandaged everything into place. Then we immobilized the leg with a splint to prevent any movement that would aggravate the injury. Surveying our handiwork, Goldie and Bolter nodded to each other, trilling their approval, making Ryeena and I smile.

"That's all we can do for now," I sighed, wiping the excess numbweed from my senseless fingers. "Surgical reconstruction will have to wait until she's stronger."

"Reconstruction?" D'ren pondered.

"Yes … removing portions of healthy tissue from one part of the body to repair damaged sections elsewhere. In Darla's case, we'd take sections from her good leg to rebuild her damaged one."

"You're serious?!" he exclaimed, grasping my arm.

Goldie hissed at the rough handling, but I shushed her, stroking her neck ridge.

"You'd deliberately cut her open to do this … this … reconstruction?" D'ren stammered.

"Yes. The skin and muscle tissue would still be hers, so her body would be unlikely to reject the graft. It would temporarily weaken her good leg, but the amount of tissue in each leg would be balanced out. And, with time and a judicious amount of exercise once the surgery had healed over, the muscles would eventually regain their original size and tone, restoring her to normal."

D'ren looked uncertain, even frightened by the idea.

"The only other choice is to leave her as she is, severely crippled by that Threadscore. There's no way her body could regenerate that much lost skin and muscle without help. Is anyone on Pern qualified to perform such an operation?"

"No healer I've ever heard of," Ryeena reported, coming over. "Not even at the Healer Hall!"

"Dragonrider?" I queried, turning to D'ren.

"Weyr healers may have experience patching torn flesh together," he told me, shaking his head as he tried to recall, "but none have ever tried what you're suggesting."

"I have the skills requisite for the task," I told him, my eyes coldly serious, "but I'll do nothing without her understanding of the risks involved and not without her complete approval."

That said, I pushed past D'ren and stepped over to Laneth's side.

"I've done all I could, my golden friend," I said, meeting her gaze. "Darla should be waking soon to rejoin you."

 _My thanks, friend John,_ Laneth replied, a hint of blue in her worried yellow eyes.

"Now it's time to see if we can set you to right," I commented, gently resting my hand on Laneth's golden hide.

PAIN! By all its astonishing varieties, I was assailed; suddenly, totally, ferociously. Goldie's terrified shriek as she leaped from my shoulder was the first indication to anyone that something was amiss.

"Jays! What …" Ryeena exclaimed, startled from her examination of Darla's leg.

Wave after wave of hideous agony slammed into me, hurling me backwards to crash heavily on the ground. I lost control of my stomach, spewing violently and repeatedly, the crippling pain totally nauseating me. How I retained control of my other bodily functions I never figured out.

"John!" D'ren shouted, running to my side as Goldie circled above, her hysterical cries filling the air.

"What happened?!" Ryeena exclaimed as she skidded to her knees beside me, scooping my head into her lap while my body continued to twitch and spasm.

"I have no idea!" D'ren told her, shaking his head in amazement. "He just touched Laneth, then Wham! He's lying in the dirt!"

The bronze rider whistled in amazement at the distance I'd been thrown, nearly a third of a dragonlength.

"My wing! My wing!" I cried out, clutching my left arm tightly to my chest.

"Take it easy, John, you'll be alright," Ryeena softly crooned, stroking my forehead gently, comfortingly. "It's okay."

I blinked my eyes, trying to focus on her face. "Ryeena?"

"Uh huh!" she said, relieved but still a little frightened. "How do you feel?"

"OHHH!" I moaned, slowly sitting up while trying to keep my unsettled stomach from becoming more so. "Like somebody chewed me up, didn't like the taste, and spit me out!"

I smiled weakly, D'ren chuckled, and Ryeena smiled more warmly.

"Well, at least you're not hurt," Ryeena sighed, clearly relieved. "What happened?"

"Laneth! Spirits of my ancestors, she's in agony!" I replied, staggering to my feet even with Ryeena's help. "The instant I touched her, I felt …" Gasping for breath, startling realization struck me like a blow to the face. "By my revered ancestors, it can't be!"

"John, what is it?" asked Ryeena as she glanced from me to Laneth.

Struggling to put into words what seemed impossible, I stammered, "Ryeena, when I touched her, I … I felt her pain, actually felt it as though it was my own!"

"But … but how can that be?" Ryeena gasped, disbelief in her eyes. "Only dragons and their riders can do that!"

"I wish I knew," I said, shaken by its implications, "but I think I know how to use it. If I can feel her pain with my touch, then maybe I can share her pain and lessen it somewhat. Then the rest of you could act to cleanse the threadscores and apply numbweed."

"John, you can't!" Ryeena exclaimed, seizing my arm in fright. "Look what happened to you just now!"

Goldie added her own plea, chittering hysterically as she seized my other arm; tiny wings pumping furiously as she tried to pull me away from Laneth.

"She's right, John," D'ren cautioned me, scuffing the dirt where I'd landed. "If you touch her again, it could kill you."

"I must try, Dragonrider," I replied, kneeling to check Darla's pulse. "Lessening Laneth's pain will also take some of the pain from Darla. The first time I was caught unprepared."

"John, no!" begged Ryeena.

"I must, Ryeena," I told her as I moved to Laneth's side. "Please understand, I must."

Goldie was harder to convince. She wailed hysterically, struggling with all her tiny strength to keep Laneth and me apart. I looked first into the whirling orange-yellow eyes of Darla's queen, then back to the nervous faces of my two friends.

"I don't know how long I'll be able to maintain contact, so move quickly."

Exchanging worried glances with Ryeena, D'ren said, "We'll do our best."

Goldie made one last attempt to stop me, hovering between me and Laneth. The fear she broadcast was intense, her eyes a whirling yellow as she landed on my upheld arm.

"We must try to save her, Goldie," I said, stroking my little friend's neck ridge. "Pern needs her."

Goldie trilled a low wistful series of notes as she looked back at Laneth. 'But I need you more,' she seemed to say.

Climbing to my shoulder, Goldie curled her tail gently about my neck, then turned her jewel-like eyes to me and gave a final trill. A tear slid down my cheek as I hugged her tiny head to mine. Then, taking a couple of deep breaths to steady myself, I opened my mind to Laneth.

"Do you understand what I'm about to do?" I asked as I raised my hands.

 _It will cause you pain!_ Laneth objected, backing away defensively.

"Yes, but if I'm right, it will lessen your pain and that of your rider," I explained, looking over to where Darla rested. "Isn't that worth the risk?"

 _You are not afraid?_ Laneth inquired, swiveling her long graceful neck around to gaze over at her rider.

"Of course I am," I replied, smiling, "but we must do it for Darla's sake. Please, Laneth."

Darla's queen paused just a moment, one massive multifaceted eye on me, then she lowered her head within reach.

 _You are very brave, friend John,_ she rumbled, her eyes a brilliant, deep blue.

"Then tell my knees to stop shaking!" I laughed.

Laneth brought her head closer, and I gritted my teeth, steeling myself against the onslaught I knew was coming.

It didn't help.

"NGHYAAAAAAHHHH!"

My knees gave way the moment I made contact, every cell of my body seeming to explode with pain. Only the talons of Laneth's forepaw gently encircling my waist kept me from collapsing to the ground. In that single, excruciating instant, I knew exactly what Darla was going through.

Goldie's cry echoed my own, a terrifying mirror in a much higher octave. She clung to my shoulder with a savage fury as if by will alone she could keep me with her.

"John!" Ryeena exclaimed, darting to my side.

"No!" D'ren cautioned, reaching out to stop her.

"But …"

"He's established the link, Ryeena. If we try to sever it, the shock to his system could kill him!"

"John!" Ryeena wept, her eyes brimming with fear and uncertainty.

"Ohh!"

D'ren and Ryeena both jumped at the quiet moan behind them.

"Darla?" D'ren whispered, dropping to his knees beside his weyrmate.

"D … D'ren?" she weakly responded, her eyes blinking as she tried to focus on his face.

"Here, my love. How do you feel?"

"Awful. Laneth?"

"A healer is with her," D'ren replied, clutching Darla's hand to his face. "I was so worried about you!"

 _Lifemate!_ Laneth crooned with joy. _You are awake!_

"Yes, my heart," Darla said, broadcasting love and warmth to her dragon.

 _You didn't go between,_ Laneth gleefully trilled, _just as John said._

"No, dear heart, I didn't." Then, a puzzled look crossing her face, Darla turned to D'ren and asked, "Who's John?"

"The healer who's with Laneth," he replied, "and do I have a story for you!"

"Ryeena!" I called out, my quavering voice barely above a whisper. A shadow moved into my peripheral vision, and I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Hurry! I don't … don't know how much longer … I can …"

"We'll make it, John," I heard Ryeena say, her words reassuring, "just hang on."

Fear turning to decisiveness, Ryeena spun to the others gathered nearby.

"Hurry!" she commanded with a wave of her arm. "Bring those supplies and the table over! Move!"

The two adults swung the table into position beneath Laneth's wing while the others brought the numbweed pots, redwort bottles, and cleansing rags.

"Make it fast!" Ryeena ordered, leaping to the top of the table. "John won't be able to maintain the link much longer!"

"What's happening?" Darla asked.

"Some of the local holders are getting ready to treat Laneth's threadscores," D'ren told her, lovingly brushing back the hair from her face. "Don't worry. She's in good hands."

"What'd she mean by link?" Darla inquired, glancing over at the flurry of activity around her dragon.

"That's part of the story, love."

 _It's John, Lifemate_ , hummed Laneth, craning her neck around to look at her rider. _He can talk to me just like you can!_

"HE WHAT!?" Darla exclaimed, jerking up to a sitting position, knocking D'ren onto his backside.

 _John can talk to me, Lifemate,_ Laneth repeated, trilling soothingly. _He stayed with me while you slept._ There was a pause as Laneth turned away briefly, then, _John wants to know how you feel._

"But … I didn't hear a thing!" Darla exclaimed, staring at her weyrmate, her face writ with disbelief.

"You think you're surprised!" D'ren chuckled as he helped Darla lie back down.

While D'ren struggled to explain to his weyrmate what had so recently transpired, Ryeena and the others scrambled desperately to cleanse and numb Laneth's wing scores. Finally, …

"There! That's got it!" Ryeena sighed, wiping a stray bit of numbweed away.

Leaping down from the table, she moved to my side.

"John?" she prodded, giving my shoulder a gentle shake.

Like a child's rag doll, I collapsed in the grip of Laneth's foreleg. Goldie still clung to my shoulder, talons buried deep in the fabric of my tunic. She, too, was unmoving.

"JOHN!" Ryeena screamed, horrified eyes staring as several of the gathered holders eased my limp form from Laneth's grip, another gently peeling Goldie off my shoulder before they lowered me to the ground.

"By the First Egg, NOOO!" Ryeena sobbed, hugging my body to her. "NOOOO!"

Bolter landed on Ryeena's shoulder, crooning reassuringly as he wrapped his tail about her neck. Laneth gently nuzzled Ryeena, adding her own encouragement.

"Hey! What …" one of the holders exclaimed as the little golden bundle he was carrying began to squirm.

"Goldie?" Ryeena gasped, her voice uncertain, daring to hope as she heard the little queen's quiet chirping.

"Ryeena, wait," D'ren said, grasping her shoulder and pointing at me, "it's alright. Look!"

"He's alive!" she wept, tears of joy falling as she watched my chest slowly move up and down. "Oh, thank the stars!"

It was several long minutes before I regained consciousness. When I opened my eyes, a ring of worried faces was looking down at me.

"Laneth?" I whispered, not having the strength for anything louder.

"We … we got her cleaned up and slathered with numbweed," Ryeena reported, smiling as she wiped tears from her eyes.

"Goldie?" I asked, and in response, something butted against my head, chirruping sweetly.

"She never left you," Ryeena said, smiling as Goldie head-stroked my cheek. "We had to pry her from your shoulder after you passed out. What about you?" she asked, gently brushing the hair from my eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Feels like I've been playing tag with a Bellarox gigawatt shock demon," I muttered, covering my eyes with my hand.

"A what?" D'ren inquired.

"Never mind," I chuckled, grinning at him. "Trust me, you don't want to meet one. How's Darla?"

"Awake and comfortable," the dragonrider replied, glancing away, "thanks in no small measure to you."

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"A few minutes," Ryeena told me.

"Damn!" I cursed, struggling to sit up. "A few too long. Gotta work fast now if we're to save Laneth's wing."

D'ren and one of the adult holders helped me to my feet.

"John, …" Ryeena began.

"If we don't repair the damage, Ryeena, she'll lose the wing," I said, struggling up onto the table. "Please, will you help me?"

Ryeena looked briefly at the mangled remains of Laneth's wing then hopped up on the table beside me. "Can we save it?"

"We have to try," I said, threading another needle.

Time dragged by, the reconstruction work painstakingly slow. Several sections of the feeder arteries along the wing's leading edge had been consumed by the ravaging Thread, the gaps too wide to bridge by stretching the remaining flesh across. That left me with only one alternative.

D'ren nearly flattened me the first time I cut open his weyrmate's dragon. Ryeena was as pale as a sheet as she struggled to take the knife from my hand, and poor Goldie was torn between protecting me and defending her giant cousin.

Laneth seemed to understand, though, using her massive head to push D'ren and Ryeena away. When I tried to extract additional sections of tissue, another Istan rider, recently arrived, planted his fist in my face before he and several fellow riders dragged me away.

"No! Stop!" Darla shouted, struggling to rise from her resting spot.

Goldie, talons bared and shrieking with rage, dove repeatedly at the riders who'd attacked me.

"D'ren, stop them!" Darla pleaded, seizing his arm.

"But …"

"He's trying to save Laneth's wing! Stop them, please!"

Laneth's piercing howl of displeasure was instantly answered by the penetrating roar of twin dragons, stopping everyone in their tracks.

"Release him!" a stentorian voice commanded, and I was dropped unceremoniously to my hands and knees.

Someone rushed to my side, and I felt an arm across my shoulders as a familiar voice inquired, "Are you alright, John?"

Heart leaping to my throat, I looked up into the worry-lined face of Benden's Weyrwoman.

"Are you alright?" Lessa repeated, dabbing at the blood trickling from my mouth.

"Yes, Weyrwoman, thank you," I replied, struggling to my feet. "Please excuse me. I must get back to Laneth."

"Not until you tell me what's going on here!" Lessa demanded, grabbing my arm.

"There's no time!" I argued, shaking free of her grasp.

"What's going on, D'ren?" F'lar asked as he joined Lessa.

"John's trying to save what he can of Laneth's wing," the bronze rider explained, watching as I rinsed my dropped knife off in redwort.

"By cutting her open?!" Lessa exclaimed, staring in horror as I widened my previous incision.

The Benden Weyrleaders moved as one to stop me, but, "I'm sorry, Lessa, F'lar," D'ren apologized, blocking their path, "I can't let you interfere."

"Weyrwoman, please don't," Darla beseeched the two Benden leaders, struggling once again to rise from her resting spot.

"Laneth trusts him, Lessa," Darla said, taking the Benden Weyrwoman's hands as she knelt beside her. "Please, I beg you, we must help him!"

"It's that serious?" F'lar asked, surveying the extent of the Thread damage.

"If we don't restore the circulatory system, Weyrleader," I shouted back over my shoulder, "she'll lose the entire wing. Ryeena! Bowl!"

From the moment I had first started the classes in field surgical techniques at the Academy – required training for any first contact team – I had hoped I would never have to use that knowledge. Now, however, I was immensely relieved that I had paid such close attention to my instructors. Those lessons were about to pay off in a way I could never have anticipated!

My reluctant surgical assistant looked a bit off-color, but Ryeena was holding up well under the circumstances, Bolter constantly reassuring her, and I was grateful for her help. She held out a bowl filled with dragon blood into which I dropped the latest section of extracted tissue.

"Okay, that should be all we'll need," I sighed, trimming off the excess thread after reattaching the severed vein and suturing the incision closed. "Let's hope it's enough."

"What can we do?" F'lar asked as Ryeena handed the bowl up to me on the table.

"Food, and plenty of water," I replied, giving Ryeena a hand up. "With that much blood lost, Laneth will be dehydrated. We'll need to replenish her fluid levels, and she'll need the food to help rebuild her strength."

"Done!" D'ren called out, dragging his fellow Istan riders away with him.

"Stay with her, Weyrwoman," I said to Lessa. "Get the other dragons to help. We mustn't lose her now!"

"Why don't you do it, John?" Lessa suggested, eyeing me closely.

Ryeena gasped, her hand jumping to my arm as I turned to the Benden Weyrwoman. She knew! But … Of course! Being able to hear any dragon, Lessa could not have missed Laneth's cry. Thus alerted, she would have overheard Darla's queen talking to me. Our eyes locked together, and I could tell she was daring me to deny my gift.

"If Laneth is to have any chance, Weyrwoman," I said while patting Ryeena's hand, "I can't afford to be distracted." A look of entreaty on my face, I added, "Please, Lessa, I need your help."

There, I hadn't admitted it, but it was obvious my secret was out all the same. Goldie nuzzled my cheek, and I smiled as I reached up to scratch her eye ridges.

"Do what you have to, John," Benden's Weyrwoman said, nodding first to me then to Darla. "We'll handle the rest."

I worked as fast as I could, praying all the while that Time would somehow slow from its relentless progress. I knew nothing about dragon physiology, so I'd been forced to extract sections of surface veins from several locations on Laneth's body instead of the arterial tissue I would've preferred. It was a stopgap and I knew it, but if circulation could be restored, then there was a chance the wing could be saved. A shudder ran the entire length of my body at the horror and pain the image of a wingless dragon conjured up.

"John?"

"I'm alright, Ryeena," I said, shaking my head to clear the image. "Let's hurry."

Mercifully, the searing touch of Thread had cauterized the flesh around the main feeder artery, the damaged tissue collapsing around it, reducing the flow of blood to but a trickle. But that same tissue would have to be removed before grafting could begin, reopening the very artery I was trying desperately to save.

Help came unexpectedly from the gathering Dragonriders. Climbing up on the table, three of them, F'lar of Benden most notably, grabbed hold of Laneth's wing inward from the threadscore and squeezed, compressing the artery against the underlying wing bone and temporarily stanching the flow of precious blood.

I didn't waste a nanosecond. The damaged dragon flesh surrendered to the cutting edge of my knife, then the grafting process began. It was a race against Time as I sutured each section of replacement tissue into place, struggling to bridge the gaps left by the ravaging Thread. If Laneth's wing had been without blood too long already …

There was no lack of help instantly at hand. Ryeena had a cloth at the ready, blotting the sweat from my forehead as she held the bowl of precious grafting tissue. Another holder stood nearby with a pot of redwort to rinse my knife off in. And the two queen riders, Darla and Lessa, kept a steady supply of threaded needles always within reach. A second table was added to the end of the first, giving us a continuous walkway to the farthest edge of the Thread damage.

Somewhere during all this, D'ren and the other Istan riders returned with a huge water trough and food for Laneth. A steady stream of young dragonriders and hold children soon had the trough brimming with water. Laneth sighed gratefully as she took her first sips.

"Alright, that should do it," I murmured, wiping my hands off after suturing the last section of tissue into place. To F'lar and the others holding Laneth's wing, I said, "Be ready to clamp back down if I tell you."

All three nodded understanding.

"Okay, slowly … let go."

Everyone held their collective breaths as pressure on Laneth's artery was removed.

"Clamp!" I ordered, spotting a leaking graft. "Suture!" The three dragonriders immediately reapplied pressure as Lessa slapped a threaded needle into my hand. A couple of additional stitches in the offending graft, I said, "Alright, let's try again."

Once more, pressure on the artery was released, and I hurried up and down the tables checking all the graft sites.

"John, she's still bleeding!" Ryeena exclaimed, pointing to several spots on the torn mainsail.

"No, that's good, Ryeena," I said, grinning broadly. "That's venous discharge, blood that's used up the oxygen it was carrying. If it's coming out, …"

"Then circulation's been restored!" Lessa exclaimed, astonished eyes looking up at me.

"Yes, Weyrwoman," I said, a cautious smile on my lips. "Now all we have to do is hope there's been no permanent tissue damage from oxygen deprivation."

The grafts showed no further signs of leaking, and it was a simple matter to suture the protective skin flaps into place. After that, I salvaged what I could. Large portions of the wing sails were missing, but fortunately, enough tissue could be sutured into place to protect the all-important wing bones. Torn flesh was stitched back together, bleeders were tied off and bandaged where flesh no longer was, and damaged sails were reinforced with gauze and reed stays to provide strength for the days to come.

Through my special gift, I shared the entire experience with Laneth; every incision, every stitch, every ache. It turned out to be quite a boon, the pains I felt guiding me unerringly to the affected spot on Laneth.

 _Ahhhh!_ she sighed, eyes a contented blue as I slathered the last bit of numbweed on her wing. _Why do I need these sticks on my wing, John?_

Lessa was watching, her eyes squarely on me. There was no point in trying to deny it now.

"It's a splint, Laneth," I explained, my gaze never leaving Lessa, "to keep you from bending your wing. Until those grafts heal properly, we had to immobilize your wing. I'm sorry, but it's necessary."

Goldie's chirp made me look up. She'd been examining the splint and was now peering over the edge of Laneth's wing, her eyes whirling slowly in an anxious shade of orange.

 _The little one wants to know if I'll be able to fly again,_ Laneth rumbled, her own eyes the same shade.

As I lifted Goldie down to my shoulder, I looked out across Moreta's Hold where dragons continued to arrive. Weyrfolk and holders alike were gathered around us, their expressions anxious, none more so than Darla still resting comfortably nearby. F'lar and Lessa stood at the front of the crowd, their expressions grimly serious, and I swallowed a lump in my throat as I helped Ryeena down from the table.

 _Will I fly again, John?_

"Only Time will tell, Laneth," I replied, patting the queen's massive head before stepping down from the table. "Only Time …"

Benden was waiting. Butterflies churned my stomach even as Goldie head-stroked my cheek, chirping reassuringly. A tiny hand slipped into mine, and I turned to find Ryeena smiling up at me. Bolter added his own trill of encouragement as Ryeena gave my arm a gentle hug. Swallowing a lump in my throat, the four of us made our way over to the waiting Benden Weyrleaders.


	18. Chapter 18 - Dragon Healer

Chapter 18

Dragon Healer

DRAGONS … AS FAR AS THE EYE COULD SEE! Not since Lessa had guided the five missing Weyrs forward through time to fight Thread had there been such a gathering. But rather than lift my spirits, the sight of so many filled me with a dread I couldn't put a name to. Why had they all come? Because of Laneth? Her cry had certainly been loud enough. Still, there were more dragons present than the entire complement at Ista; more than several weyrs, in fact.

"Weyrleader, Weyrwoman," I said, bowing to F'lar and Lessa, "you remember my friend, I trust?"

"Of course," Lessa replied, nodding. "I see you're none the worse for trying out John's contraption. It's good to see you again, child."

"Thank you, Weyrwoman," Ryeena whispered, head hung in embarrassment.

Lessa then turned to me, her expression grim, her gaze burning through to my very soul. "You've been keeping a secret from us, John."

THUD! My heart pounded so hard against my ribs, I was afraid they would break! Eyes downcast, with a very audible gulp, I nodded. Lessa was about to say something further when …

"Ah! F'lar, Lessa." Startled by the familiar voice, I looked up to see N'ton coming through the crowd. "Maybe you two can tell me what's going on here!"

Lessa didn't say a word, turning instead to gesture my way.

"Oh, ho!" the Fort Weyrleader exclaimed, grinning broadly as he thumped me on the shoulder. "So Lioth was right. It was you he heard!"

"HE WHAT?!" I spluttered, my knees nearly giving way. "But … Laneth … I thought …"

Whirling about, I stared out across the sea of dragons. Spirits of my ancestors, it couldn't be!

"LANETH, STOP! YOU MUSTN'T GO _BETWEEN_!"

I spun back around; icy fingers of terror, colder than the harsh vacuum of space, clutching my heart.

"That is what you said, wasn't it?" N'ton asked.

"To the last syllable!" D'ren exclaimed, dumbfounded. "But how did you … Scorch the flesh and sear the skin!"

The answer was as obvious as it was heart-stopping. "Your … your dragon … heard me?!"

 _Naturally_ , Lioth rumbled.

"Very loud," N'ton replied with a smile, "and very clear!"

"So did Mnementh," F'lar remarked as he joined the Fort Weyrleader.

"And Ramoth," Lessa added, coming up on N'ton's other side.

"By the shards of my dragon's egg!" Darla gasped, looking up at her queen.

"Judging by the number of Weyrs present," N'ton chuckled as he surveyed the gathering, "I'd wager every dragon on Pern heard that cry!"

Astride my shoulder, Goldie squealed a sudden alarm. Small wonder. Weaving unsteadily, my face drawn and ashen, I looked ready to faint.

"Easy, John," N'ton quietly urged as he seized one arm, Ryeena quickly grasping the other. "It's alright. You're among friends."

"Ancestors, no!" I hissed, eyes so wide they dwarfed my face. "N'ton, what have I done?"

"What you had to, John," D'ren replied, smiling from beside his weyrmate.

"And we're both very grateful," Darla called up from her resting place, Laneth watchfully beside her.

A gentle hand on my arm, Lessa asked, "What happened here, John?"

I couldn't answer. My insides had turned to ice, the specter of Death obscuring my vision. Spirits of my ancestors, when they found out the truth, I …

"What's wrong?" Lessa asked, disturbed by the violent trembling that suddenly shook my body. "John, what is it?"

"Weyrwoman, forgive me!" I sobbed, prostrating myself at her feet. "My ignorance nearly killed Laneth!"

"What?!" Lessa exclaimed, disquieting murmurs rippling through the crowd even as Goldie tried her best to console me.

"It wasn't deliberate," D'ren assured her, draping a comforting arm across my heaving shoulders.

"You saw what happened?"

"Yes, so before you pass judgment on John's actions, you'd better hear the whole story."

"I'm listening," Lessa said, kneeling in front of me.

Slowly, in painstaking detail, D'ren recounted all the events leading up to Benden's arrival – everything from the nerve pinch incident to Laneth's near flight _between_ to their discovery that I could speak to dragons and more.

"And where were the hold healers while all this was going on?" Lessa wondered.

"None of us have the skills necessary to handle such a crisis, Weyrwoman," one holder responded. "We'd've had to send to Keroon Hold for the masterhealer."

"Then why wasn't he sent for?" Lessa furiously demanded, rounding on the man.

"Wouldn't have done any good," a second holder replied. "Only yesterday I'd returned from Keroon. The masterhealer was off to the eastern provinces with her journeymen, treating an outbreak of sickness."

"We wanted to help, Weyrwoman, you have to believe us," a third chimed in, "but none of us knew what to do for the queen or her rider." Glancing down at my huddled form, he added, "Until today, I'd've sworn only the Weyrs had skilled dragon healers!"

"Hmm, yes," Lessa murmured, nodding agreement. Turning to Ryeena, she asked, "Did you know he could speak to dragons, child?"

"No, Weyrwoman," she replied, joining her by my side. "John didn't tell me a thing, and I thought we were friends."

To Ryeena's horrified surprise, Goldie and Bolter rounded on her, hissing angrily, their eyes a brilliant burning red. N'ton's own fierce expression was even more frightening.

"You DARE question his friendship after that coldsleep incident?"

Bewildered by the fire lizards, stung by N'ton's words, Ryeena backed away, her expression pained and confused. "Bronze rider, I … I … I'm sorry."

"N'ton, no!" I beseeched him, shaking my head as I looked up. "Goldie, Bolter, it's alright. She doesn't understand."

"No, I don't!" Ryeena sobbed, looking from the dragonrider to me.

His stern expression softening, N'ton gently took Ryeena's hands in his, saying, "When John was watching over you at your uncle's cothold, the worry and uncertainty on his face were terrifying to behold. But more than that, you could feel the fear that consumed him, fear that Death might claim his dearest friend and his most cherished possession … your friendship."

Sniffling back a tear, Ryeena glanced over at me.

"You are life to him, child," N'ton told her, smiling as he laid a gentle hand against her tear-stained cheek. "He loves you as if you were his own daughter. Your friendship is the reason he's kept silent!"

"But why?" she wondered, wiping away her tears.

"Because he is haunted," a new voice spoke, the owner stepping through the crowd, "by a nightmare from his past."

"Silvina!" Scrambling to my feet, I wrapped the Harper Hall headwoman in a very grateful embrace. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't think I would miss this day, did you?" she asked, giving my hands a reassuring squeeze. "I promised you we'd be here to stand by you." Glancing about, she added, "This is some Gather you've put together!"

Torn between laughing and crying, what escaped my lips was an eerie mix of both as I hugged her once more.

"Silvina, how did you get here? And how did you know where to find me?"

"The Fort Hold watchpair was gracious enough to bring me," she explained, bowing her appreciation to N'ton. "As to how I knew where to find you, well …"

For an instant, her eyes glittered with secret amusement. Then, my hand flew to my mouth, trying to stifle my startled gasp.

"Oh, shells! Menolly! Is she …"

"She's fine, John, though a bit frazzled," Silvina assured me, laughing warmly. "It took us nearly half an hour to settle her fair. Morshal was in truly rare form when I left!"

"Shards, no!" I groaned, burying my face in my hands, N'ton clapping me on the back, all the while chuckling at my discomfiture.

"Your cry sent every fire lizard in the Hall into a frenzy," Silvina reported, "Beauty and her fair most of all because they recognized who it was!"

"That would also explain Tris' reaction," N'ton commented, grinning at me. "He's been acting pretty smug lately, being the only fire lizard on Pern who knows what Keymon looks like."

 _WHAT?!_ Goldie squawked, butting my cheek with surprising force, clearly incensed that I had shared that knowledge with another and not her.

"But, Goldie, you hadn't even hatched yet," I protested, one hand shielding my cheek. "I'm sorry!"

That hardly placated my little golden friend. She gave a disgusted snort before finally settling back to my shoulder.

Without warning, someone seized my arm, whipping me around, Goldie squealing in alarm, her tail throttling my neck in a near stranglehold as she struggled to maintain her perch. When my vision finally cleared, Lessa's face was mere inches from mine.

"How does Tris know what Keymon looks like?" she demanded, steely eyes burning through me.

"I …"

"How do you think?" N'ton calmly replied, a supporting arm across my shoulders.

"But Tris looks to you!" Lessa exclaimed, her gaze flicking back and forth from the Fort Weyrleader to me.

"So?" N'ton shrugged. "Mnementh looks to F'lar, but that doesn't keep you from speaking to him, does it?"

"Crackdust!" F'lar cursed. "You don't mean …"

"Yep!" N'ton replied, grinning at their looks of utter disbelief. "John's never been to Fort, yet he accurately described it from an image Tris gave him."

Everyone stared, magnifying my already acute discomfort.

"And you should have been there for Tris' reaction when John showed him his friend, Keymon."

"Your arm!" Ryeena exclaimed, lightly tracing the lingering scars.

"That gift allowed Bolter to warn John about Ryeena's little escapade," Silvina continued, giving the little brown's eye ridge a scratch, "just as it enabled John to send him to the Harper Hall with a message summoning Masterhealer Oldive."

"You knew about all this?" F'lar asked.

"Not until after we'd arrived at Misty Hold that evening," N'ton replied. "But Silvina had it figured out long before then."

"Think back to that first meeting, Dragonriders," she told them, taking my arm in hers, "and what happened when Mnementh peered in through the window."

"Who could forget?" Lessa recalled. "John turned as pale as death!"

As one, the two Benden leaders gasped, turning to stare at me.

"You heard Mnementh … even then?!" F'lar stammered, not quite believing.

"' _Power … I sense great power in this one_ ,'" I recited.

Off in the distance, dragons bugled, echoing their riders' collective astonishment.

"It wasn't until the incident with T'ledon and Serith that I began to suspect what John was really capable of," Silvina told them, smiling as she gave my arm a hug.

"Oh, this is too much!" Lessa exclaimed, throwing her hands up as she stormed off, F'lar and several other riders close behind.

"Weyrwoman, please! I …" I begged, but Lessa paid no heed.

Her small group stopped a short distance away, breaking almost at once into a quiet but very heated discussion. All the while, individuals in the group turned wary eyes my way.

"Ancestors!" I muttered, thoroughly dejected, shoulders slumping. "I've really fardled things up, haven't I?"

"Not exactly the way you'd planned on revealing your secret, was it?" N'ton chuckled, thumping me on the shoulder.

Goldie did her best to console me, nuzzling my cheek and trilling sweetly in my ear.

Just then, a familiar disturbance rippled across my senses. Fleetingly, my gaze met Lessa's before we both looked skyward.

"John?" asked Ryeena, having witnessed the exchange.

"It's Ruth. Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra are with him."

High in the skies above us, the Ruathan dragon appeared, bugling a greeting to his kin below. Lessa was watching the circling Ruth, and I had the distinct feeling the two were conversing.

 _Too many below to see clearly. Where are you, Weyrwoman?_

Turning my way, Lessa jerked her head skyward.

"Go on, John," said Silvina, smiling encouragement.

"That's right," N'ton added, a firm, supportive grip on my shoulder. "Show them what you can really do!"

Drawing a deep breath to settle my fluttering heart, I turned back to the circling white dragon. _We are here, gentle Ruth,_ I sent, projecting what I hoped was an accurate aerial image of our group.

High above, Jaxom's white friend squawked in surprise, earning me a smile and a nod from the Benden Weyrwoman.

 _ **IT'S TRUE!**_ Ruth bellowed with delight, his thunderous roar resounding across Moreta's Hold as he vanished from sight.

Seconds later, dragon and riders materialized directly above us, scattering the nearby holders, the cold of _between_ preceding Ruth as he backwinged to a landing a short distance away. Goldie and Bolter flew to meet them, greeting the white dragon with a dizzying display of acrobatics and raucous caroling. Meer and Talla quickly joined them.

"Welcome to the Gather, Ruatha!" Lessa called out as Jaxom and Sharra dismounted.

No sooner had his passengers feet hit the ground than Ruth came rushing over.

 _It is true, isn't it?_ he asked, quivering with excitement.

 _Yes, my friend, it's true,_ I wordlessly replied, giving his eye ridge a scratch _. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner._

"Looks like every Weyr on Pern is here!" Sharra remarked as the new arrivals joined us.

"Lessa's filled us in on the particulars," Jaxom commented, concern etched deeply on his face. Laying a reassuring hand on my shoulder, he added, "It was you that day at the Gather, wasn't it? The one the dragons heard cry out. Why didn't you tell us?"

"John?" prompted Silvina, nudging my arm when I hesitated.

Head lowered in shame, tears pouring down my cheeks, I muttered, "I was … I was afraid, Lord Jaxom, so terribly afraid. I … I didn't know who I could turn to … who I could trust."

"Go on, John," Silvina urged. "Tell them why."

"Silvina, I … I don't think I …"

"You have to, John," N'ton insisted, a firm hand gripping my shoulder. "These are your friends. They deserve to know. They have to know in order to understand."

"Please?" Ryeena begged, quietly slipping her hand into mine.

Looking at my young friend, her face lined with worry, I silently wondered, _Have I the right to endanger her life?_

"Ryeena, …"

"Please?" she asked again, the silent entreaty in her eyes inescapable.

Violent shivers rocked my body. It was like the coldsleep incident all over again.

"Please?"

Gulping once, I nodded.

With a heavy sigh, I took my listeners back to my Academy days, introducing them to my dear departed friend. I explained the reasons behind the psionics screening and how dismally I had failed every test I'd been put through.

And then, I told them about the attack. Until that moment, my voice had been strong and sure, but then it faltered, my throat so constricted with emotion I was barely able to tell them how my friend had died and how very close I had come to joining him. When the telling was finally done, I sank to the ground, physically spent and emotionally drained, clutching myself against the tremors that threatened to rattle my bones apart.

"Oh, John," Ryeena wept, hugging me tightly, "I didn't know!"

Bolter trilled sweetly in her ear, head caressing his young friend with all the love and warmth he could muster. Astride my shoulder, Goldie softly crooned her sympathy, her eyes brilliant amethyst jewels, mirroring her love and devotion. I wept, hugging her tiny head to mine.

"By the Egg of Faranth!" F'lar murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. "No wonder you've been so secretive!"

"John," Sharra quietly spoke, kneeling beside me, her gentle hand resting on my shoulder.

"They killed my friend because of his gifts," I sobbed, cringing away from her touch. "Please, I don't want the same thing to happen to me!"

"No one is going to hurt you," Silvina assured me, kneeling on my opposite side, her comforting arm around my shoulders.

 _We won't let them._

Startled by the basso voice rumbling in my head, I looked up… into a ring of dragon faces, every eye a brilliant, burning red. Flames occasionally escaped from some of their muzzles. All were rumbling menacingly.

"Ancestors, no!" I gasped, frantically trying to back away.

 _Do not be afraid, friend John,_ Laneth assured me. _It is not you they are angry with._

"Correct me if I'm wrong, N'ton," Silvina remarked, grinning as she looked around, "but haven't we seen this before?"

"Indeed we have," he laughed, helping me to my feet, "as you well know!"

F'lar, Lessa, and the others could only stare in hopeless confusion.

"Ask Lioth when you get a chance, Lessa," N'ton told her. Then, grinning broadly, he said, "Seems you've won a few more champions to your side, John. I pity the poor feckless wherry numbwitted enough to ever threaten you again!"

"They'll have to get through me, first!" Ryeena fiercely declared, hugging me tightly.

Bolter and Goldie added their own assertions, spreading their wings and hissing menacingly from atop our shoulders. The circled dragons rumbled their accord, some nodding to me, others belching gouts of flame skyward, sending many holders scrambling for cover.

"Thank you, my friends," I wept, tears trickling down my cheeks as I nodded to each of the great beasts, "and my deepest appreciation to your riders."

What a display! As I looked around at my friends, both large and small, I could almost believe there was finally an end to the nightmare in sight.

"If only you had confided in us sooner, John," N'ton said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We could've saved you a great deal of needless suffering."

"He's right, you know," Jaxom added, joining his wife. "Your being able to speak to all dragons is an exceedingly rare and highly prized gift. Why, there isn't a weyr … or hold for that matter … that wouldn't love to have someone like you to help them."

"With Benden, hopefully, at the top of the list," Lessa interjected, a smile for me as she gave my arm a gentle, reassuring hug.

Just then, …

"What by the First Egg is going on around here?" a lone dragonrider cursed, pushing his way through the crowd. "Has every winged creature on Pern gone mad?" Seeing Lessa, he demanded, "You behind this, Benden?"

F'lar looked ready to throttle his fellow rider. Lessa was practically white-hot with fury.

"No, dragonrider," I responded, hoping to head off an obvious confrontation. "I am."

"Who the blazes are you?" the rider demanded.

"This is our friend," Silvina replied, stepping up to my left.

"His name is John," Ryeena added, stepping between the arrogant rider and me.

"He comes from Earth, T'rell, the home world of the Ancients," N'ton said from my right. "Surely you've heard of him by now."

"Earth?" he wondered aloud before spotting the blaster strapped to my leg. "Yes, I seem to recall some paltry drivel about it."

Hissing ever so softly, Goldie's tail twitched in agitation. It was obvious she didn't like this dragonrider.

"Goldie, hush," I whispered, stroking her neck ridge.

"How are you involved in all this, John of Earth?"

"Why, isn't it obvious, T'rell?" Lessa asked, a quirk of a smile playing across her lips as she gestured at the gathered Weyrs. "John can speak to all dragons … just like me."

Mouth agape, I spun to the Benden Weyrwoman. Her last words, three lonely syllables, had come across brandishing fire and burnished steel. A warning?

"Talks to dragons, huh?" T'rell scoffed, jealousy flickering briefly across his face. Jabbing a finger into my chest, he demanded, "Prove it!"

That was all the provocation Goldie needed. With a loud, angry howl, she swiped at the dragonrider, her unsheathed talons barely missing the man's offending finger.

"Goldie, no!" I exclaimed, grasping her forepaws with one hand while stroking her neck ridge with the other. Drawing a breath to steady my pounding heart, I asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"Find my dragon," T'rell replied, smiling contemptuously as he gestured around, "if you can!"

A daunting task. There were hundreds, possibly thousands of dragons watching events unfold.

"T'rell, that's hardly a fair challenge!" decried Lessa, stepping up to the arrogant rider.

Her unexpected support was greatly heartening. Lessa, above all, was the one I most wished to please. And, I drew comfort from the knowledge that even this arrogant rider backed away from her, a wary look in his eyes.

"Weyrwoman, it's alright," I quietly said, one hand on Lessa's shoulder as I stepped around her. "I accept the challenge."

"Proceed, then," T'rell sneered, stepping aside.

Drawing a deep breath to settle both mind and body, I closed my eyes, concentrating on the teachings of my Academy instructors, letting my mind reach out, sensing, quietly probing.

 _I know his dragon, friend John,_ Laneth offered. _I can help you._

 _Thank you,_ I replied, encouraged by her offer, _but I must do this on my own._

"So, what's taking so long?" T'rell complained, his tone belligerent. "Or is it because you can't …"

Goldie trilled a warning from my shoulder even as my hand snapped up to silence the dragonrider. I'd felt something, fleeting, like a shadow at the periphery of my vision. If I could just …

"Bah, he can't talk to dragons," T'rell scoffed, swatting at my hand as if it was some annoying insect. "He's just shamming, delaying, trying to make us look like fools!"

Ramoth's trumpet of displeasure was echoed by her mate, even as my own eyes snapped open into twin slits of burning fire.

 _By my revered ancestors,_ I silently cursed, _it would be so easy to belt this pompous, blustering fool!_

"You issued the challenge, Dragonrider!" I roared, backing T'rell up a step or two in surprise. "At least have the courtesy to allow me to answer it in my own fashion!"

Seething with rage, I spun away, heading off to the waiting dragons.

 _He'd have deserved it, you know,_ a quiet voice said.

My steps faltered, and I stopped, looking about for the source. Of all the dragonriders watching, only F'lar and Lessa gave any sign of having heard. Lessa I could understand, but for F'lar to …

I gasped, eyes popping as I spun to face Mnementh, my heart leaping to my throat. The mighty bronze merely stared back, his eyes an idly whirling blue-green. He rumbled contentedly, but it sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. Bowing nervously to him, I continued on my way.

Weaving a path through the mass of dragons, I finally approached another bronze. Goldie's talons sank deeper into my shoulder, her tail twining tighter about my neck as she nervously nuzzled my cheek.

"Be brave, Goldie," I said, scratching her eye ridges. "I won't let him hurt you."

Her eyes took on a more relaxed green color, though a hint of orange remained. Her near stranglehold on my neck and shoulder never let up.

 _I am John, star-voyager from the home world of the Ancients,_ I soundlessly addressed the great beast. _You are lifemate to T'rell?_

 _Yes,_ the dragon rumbled. _I am Rogath._

A dark oath exploded behind me. Turning, surprise and consternation on T'rell's face were quickly replaced with a scowling frown. Goldie chirped defiantly, giving her wings a quick shake before settling them smartly to her back as if to say, 'So there!'

 _Honored Rogath, mighty dragon,_ I sent, _please convey my most humble greetings to your rider._

"Humble, humph!" the bronze rider snorted as the message was relayed.

"So, T'rell," Lessa asked, having also heard, "do you still disbelieve?"

The dragonrider merely harrumphed again.

"Noble Rogath," I asked aloud, "would you honor me by permitting my touch?"

Receiving no answer, I stepped forward. As he looked on, each enormous eye a slowly whirling shade of blue, I gently placed my hand on the side of his head.

A knife flashed out, slashing across my right hand and stomach. At least, that's what it felt like when I touched T'rell's bronze. Goldie cried out, launching herself from my shoulder even as I staggered backwards, gasping and recoiling from the pain.

"John, what is it?" asked N'ton, his steadying hands on my shoulders.

"This dragon's been scored!" I exclaimed, cradling my arm.

"What?! Where?" Lessa demanded.

"There!" I said, pointing to Rogath's right wing. "The finger joint near the outermost sail."

Clearly visible was a hole in the skin, the underlying bone showing through where Thread had consumed the flesh. Goldie hovered briefly near the wound, inspecting it, before circling over Rogath's head, crooning in sympathy for her giant cousin's pain.

"Proves nothing," T'rell snorted. "Any numbwit could have spotted that."

"Now see here, T'rell …" D'ren stormed, coming forward.

"No!" I cautioned, my hand on the Istan rider's chest as I stepped in front of him. "He's right. Anyone could have seen that."

"But, John …" Ryeena began on my behalf.

"One has to wonder, though, why it hasn't been treated yet," I remarked, eyes locked with T'rell. "Then, of course, there's the matter of the other threadscore."

"What other one?" Silvina demanded, accusing eyes on the bronze rider.

"The one across Rogath's lower abdomen," I replied, my eyes never leaving T'rell.

"But, how could you possibly …" he spluttered in surprise.

"Rogath, would you be so kind?" Lessa asked.

At her urging, the mighty bronze reared back on his haunches, Goldie deftly flitting out of his way.

Sharra gasped, her two fire lizards chittering angrily even as others began an uneasy murmuring.

"Scorch the flesh and sear the skin!" Jaxom cursed. "Just as John said!"

Clearly visible for all to see was a ragged two-meter-long wound.

"How did he …" T'rell stammered, eyes bulging with disbelief.

"Surprised?" asked D'ren, smiling at the other's discomfiture. "When John touches a dragon, somehow he can feel its pain. When we were helping Laneth, John deliberately maintained contact, sharing her pain and easing her discomfort until the rest of us could get the threadscores cleansed and numbweed applied."

Everyone glanced at Laneth, comforting and keeping watch over her lifemate.

"There was so much damage," D'ren muttered, shuddering as he recalled. "The pain must've been excruciating!"

Sighing, I turned to T'rell, handing him a pot of numbweed. "Here. Better take this."

Snarling, the bronze rider snatched it out of my hand.

"Dragonrider, please, I'm only trying to help."

"I don't need your help," he growled, flinging the numbweed pot away.

For several seconds, we faced each other, the air pregnant with tension.

Heaving a heavy sigh, I said, "Bronze rider, I didn't ask for what's happened to me. Okay, so maybe I can speak to any dragon. Even share its pain. But it's not to me that they look. That privilege, that special rapport, is reserved solely for you and the other dragonriders, their chosen lifemates."

 _As it should be,_ Rogath rumbled.

What of my dreams? Was Lessa right? Were they actually premonitions - fleeting glimpses of what might be? The final gold had said, _Come home to us!_ Could that be the answer then? Did the future for me hold the one experience dreamed about by nearly every citizen of Pern? Was Impression my destiny?

Goldie appeared suddenly, chittering angrily, scolding me as if to say, 'Well, what about me?' Smiling, I coaxed her into landing back on my shoulder.

"Have no fear, little friend," I assured her, stroking her eye ridges as I recalled the extraordinary moment she finally broke shell. "You will always be special to me."

In miniature, I had been given a glimpse of what Impression must be like. I hugged the memory of that special day to myself and smiled. What an extraordinary experience that had been!

Reassured, Goldie trilled sweetly, stroking my cheek with her head, radiating love with every caress.

Stepping through the crowd, I headed back to where Darla was resting.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as I knelt beside her.

"Better," she managed. "Most of the pain is gone."

 _She is resting well,_ Laneth rumbled, her massive head swinging around to regard us, her eyes a slowly whirling contented blue.

Darla reached up then, and Laneth cocked her head to one side, proffering an eye ridge for her rider to scratch. Soon the great queen was rumbling contentedly.

"We'll need an experienced dragon healer to look at her," I told them, "but I think you'll both be okay. Just no flying Thread for a few sevendays, alright?"

Goldie gave a decisive chirp, putting her seal of agreement on it. Darla and I couldn't help smiling.

"Seems your little queen agrees with you … Healer John."

For a moment, I stared at Darla. And then, I rose, glancing about at the magnificent dragons and their human riders.

 _Come home to us_ , the queen had said.

Another possibility? Could this be what the dream really meant? Was my true destiny to be a healer – to help both human and dragon alike, to finally have a place in Pern society where I felt needed at last? The possibility so made my heart ache with desire that I found it difficult to breathe!

"Darla, I'm no healer," I sighed, sick with self-reproach. "Because of me, your lifemate nearly went _between_." I turned away, unable to face either of them. "I can never forgive myself for that. I've no right to such an honored title."

"You're wrong, John."

D'ren's voice at my elbow nearly made me jump out of my skin.

"When no other healers were around, who was it took charge and helped Darla?" he asked, indicating the bandages and splint on his weyrmate's leg. "We never imagined you could speak to all dragons. Lessa and Brekke were the only ones who could as far as any of us knew." Darla was nodding confirmation. "Certainly, no man has ever been able to before. It was quite a surprise, I can tell you."

"But your rare gift … that's right, gift!" he asserted, seizing me by the shoulders, his voice so full of conviction that it startled me. "It alerted you in time to what Laneth was about to do, and you were able to stop her." Spinning me around, he pointed to Laneth's wing. "And that, my friend, is hardly the work of an apprentice!" He smiled then, clasping a hand to my shoulder in a gesture of friendship and support. "You did good today, John, real good!"

"He's right, you know," Darla added. "You've shown a lot of courage, too, standing against a pain-crazed dragon the way D'ren says you did."

"I know a few dragonriders who would've thought twice about it," N'ton remarked, ticking their numbers off on his fingers.

Goldie whistled her agreement, chirping her assurance from my shoulder.

"You've proven yourself a friend, John, to both dragon and rider alike. And your healing skills are beyond question," Darla said to me. "All you lack is some knowledge and a little more experience. I think you can do it." Then, with a sly wink at D'ren and a mocking tone in her voice, she added, "That is, if you want to be a dragon healer."

I shook my head, as if not hearing her correctly.

"You … you don't mind, then?" I stammered, disbelieving.

"Mind what?" D'ren wondered, glancing from Darla to N'ton.

"That I can speak with your dragons?" I asked, looking hopefully, desperately, from one dragonrider to the other.

"Is that what's got you mincing about like you were on the hot sands of the Hatching Ground?" D'ren wondered.

I opened my mouth, but the knot of worry in my middle had become a lump in my throat forbidding any speech. Gulping audibly, I nodded, lowering my head.

"Great Shells, man, of course we don't mind!" he exclaimed, thumping me soundly on the back. "Now cheer up! You've a face as long as a wet Turn!"

I smiled briefly, looking away in embarrassment, stroking Goldie's head as she nuzzled my cheek. This was all so different from what I had expected.

 _Would the other dragonriders be as charitable?_ I wondered. _Would Lessa?_

 _He is worried, lifemate,_ Laneth hummed.

Startled, I turned to find one massive eye regarding me, hints of yellow beginning to show.

 _He smiles … but something frightens him._

Aghast, I stared at Laneth. Somehow, she had sensed my emotions! But that was impossible! Only dragons and their riders could do that! And then, I felt it. Like a strong summer breeze, concern poured from Laneth, bathing me with such a profound warmth that I cried out, staggering backwards before collapsing to the ground.

Lessa and the others had been urgently discussing my unusual situation when they were interrupted by Rogath's ear-splitting howl.

"Shells!" F'lar cursed, ducking his head. "What's with him?"

"John!" Ryeena's anguished cry penetrating the din. She was off at a run before anyone else knew what was happening.

"There!" Lessa added, pointing to where Laneth's massive golden body hovered protectively over my quivering form. "Come on! Hurry!"

I was a tiny thing, no shape, no substance. Just a flicker of consciousness that burned brightly, saying, "This is who I am."

Other voices now, thoughts and emotions surrounding me, their strength threatening to overwhelm me.

"Leave me alone! Go away!"

 _Why are you afraid?_ Laneth's voice, filled with warmth and concern.

 _You helped us._ Rogath. _We want to help you. Don't be afraid._

"No. This isn't right. I can't!"

Ryeena found me curled up in a fetal position, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, my head bent forward. Tremors rippled spasmodically throughout my body.

"John?" she pleaded, shaking me gently. Then, more urgently, "John! What's the matter? Answer me, please!"

But I heard and felt nothing, too absorbed by the battle within my own mind.

"What happened?" asked Lessa as she and the others skidded to a halt nearby.

"I was hoping you could tell me, Weyrwoman," D'ren replied, shaking his head. "John was checking on Darla to make sure she was alright. But he seemed distracted … nervous."

"Laneth seemed to think he was afraid of something," Darla added. "John obviously heard what she said because he turned pale as death. Next thing we know, he cries out like he'd been threaded then collapses."

"What do you suppose he's so terrified of?" F'lar wondered aloud.

For a long, painful moment, nothing but silence. Then a single word fell into that silence like a thunderclap.

"Us," D'ren answered, bringing his hand against his forehead in an exasperated smack. "Scorch me for a fool, why didn't I see it sooner? It's us he's afraid of, Weyrleader … the dragonriders!"

"Are you certain?" N'ton inquired.

"Yes … " Darla mused. "I think you're right, D'ren. He _did_ seem unusually relieved that we didn't mind him speaking to our dragons."

"But how do we reach him now?" wondered Silvina as she knelt beside Ryeena.

"Laneth is with him," Darla responded.

"So is Rogath," T'rell admitted, a bit disgruntled.

"The two dragons John helped," F'lar noted.

"He's speaking to them now?" The hope in Ryeena's voice eased some of the worry from her face as she looked from the riders to my still form, my head cradled gently in her lap.

"If they can talk to him, maybe others can, too," Lessa said. "Ramoth, see if John will answer you. Tell him …"

"Weyrwoman, please …" Ryeena implored, tears rolling down her cheeks. Bolter and Goldie, perched on her shoulders, crooned reassuringly to her.

"Ask him …" Lessa corrected herself, "ask him to please come back. We need him."

Thoughts and emotions, overpowering, suffocating, swirled around me, trying to approach.

"If under psionic attack, concentrate on your self," the words of my Academy instructor came to me. "Picture it as small, powerful, indestructible. Then, start building walls around yourself. See them as strong, unbreakable, impenetrable. Use what you find deflects the attack to make your walls stronger."

Slowly, I began to form my walls, calling on everything that I had learned to build my defenses, to protect myself from those outside forces.

 _If you want so desperately to help heal us, why do you fear us?_ Rogath seemed puzzled. _Come. Join with us. Let us add our strength to yours._

"But I'd be taking you from your riders … your lifemates!"

 _No, John,_ Laneth gently disagreed. _From the day of our hatching, we bonded with our lifemates. Nothing can ever break that._

 _With your friendship, you add your strength to ours,_ spoke Rogath. _We grow stronger because of you._

 _You proved that when you stayed with Laneth until her rider awoke._ A new voice … Ramoth! _Come back to us, John. Lessa says we need you._

"Lessa?" Uncertainty and fear assailed me. "Ramoth, I … I don't know … I …"

 _We will protect you, John,_ Ramoth rumbled, her tone reassuring. _Come, draw strength from us just as you shared yours with Laneth._

I hesitated, frightened, unsure. Then, guided by some instinct, I dissolved my shields. Instantly, I was swept up, buoyed along by their strength, comforted by their feelings. A great darkness lifted from my soul, freeing my joy, and I rejoiced in that freedom.

"… highly selective," I heard N'ton remark as my consciousness gradually returned to the real world. "It could explain his sensitivity to our winged friends."

"Like that one perfect note that can shatter glass," Silvina added, using a very appropriate musical metaphor.

"It's called xenobiologic resonance," I quietly spoke.

"John?!" Ryeena gasped, brushing the hair from my eyes.

"Sometimes, members of one alien species will show an affinity for another," I explained. "The Sur-Barton navigators are a classic example. By themselves, each race is unremarkable. But brought together, their individual capabilities combine in a synergistic fashion to produce highly skilled deep space navigators who rely on their enhanced spatial and temporal senses to navigate the vastness of space. Dragons and their riders are like that, each enhancing the other."

"What happened, John?" Lessa asked as Ryeena helped me sit up.

"Laneth somehow sensed my emotions, Weyrwoman," I told her, "as if she and I had Impressed. And her concern for me, … never felt anything like it. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry everyone. It's just that I was terrified I might inadvertently take Laneth from her rider."

"Mnementh certainly wasn't exaggerating the extent of your power," F'lar remarked as he and N'ton helped me to my feet. "Shells, and no experience to guide you. N'ton was right. You should've come to us sooner."

Off to one side, we heard a muffled sound. Turning, we spied D'ren with his hand over his mouth, but his eyes were dancing with laughter.

"For days, T'ledon tried to figure out who it was who had bespoke his dragon," he chuckled. "When he finds out it was you …"

The dragonrider from Ista dissolved into another fit of laughter. Annoyed, Goldie gave an admonitory chirp, glaring balefully at D'ren.

"I really should apologize to him," I said to N'ton. "I hadn't meant to cause any trouble."

Turning, I found Lessa staring at me, a frown on her face. She stared for so long saying nothing, I began to squirm, thinking I'd done something else wrong. "Weyrwoman?"

"Yes, you should," she finally said. "But that will have to wait. You've still work to do here. That is, if you want to be a dragon healer."

If it could have reached that far, my jaw would have hit the ground. I stood, staring at Lessa, hardly daring to believe what I'd just heard. My heart raced, the blood singing in my ears. Me? A dragon healer?

Since Ryeena and I had left Ruatha, I'd seen many different crafts, many different ways of life. I hadn't even thought about my Academy surgical training until confronted with the horror of Darla and Laneth. But here, at this moment, in this place, under these extraordinary circumstances, it suddenly became crystal clear that what I had really been searching for was a need to feel useful. And who could be more useful or needed than a healer?

"Well?"

"After what nearly happened today, Weyrwoman," I muttered, sick with self-rebuke, my head hung in despair, "how could you even consider me for such responsibilities?"

"As you said, John," Lessa responded, gently laying a hand on my arm, "it _nearly_ happened. But thanks to you, your gift, and your exceptional skills as a healer, it didn't."

"I think you've proven you can handle those responsibilities, John," F'lar said, coming up beside his weyrmate. "You've exercised a great deal of restraint and discretion with your gift. You've also demonstrated courage and compassion when helping others. Darla and Laneth are excellent examples. And your skills as a healer are beyond question."

"A dragon healer who isn't a rider would be ideal," Lessa added. "We'd be less likely to lose your talents than we would a rider incapacitated during a Fall. Your abilities make you the perfect choice, John. How 'bout it? The job's yours if you want it."

I didn't know what to say! Every time I opened my mouth, I closed it just as quickly, unable to find words to express the joy that threatened to burst my heart!

"Go on, John," Silvina urged me, N'ton beside her, smiling and nodding encouragement, Jaxom and Sharra doing the same.

Strangely, Ryeena remained silent. She, too, was nodding encouragement, but there was something in her mannerisms that made me uneasy. Still pondering that curiosity, I sank to one knee before F'lar and Lessa, bowing my head.

"You honor me greatly with your trust, my lady. If it is your wish, then I accept."

"Done!" F'lar spoke, offering his hand.

I grabbed it gratefully for my knees were so weak from the elation I felt, I couldn't have risen without it. I heard the others' cries of joy, the fire lizards celebrating somewhere overhead, but nothing from Ryeena.

"Weyrleader, Weyrwoman, you have entrusted a great deal to me. I give you my word that I will do honor to that trust."

"Never doubted it for a moment, John," F'lar replied, thumping me on the shoulder.

"But where to begin?" I wondered aloud, rubbing my chin thoughtfully. "There is still so much that I need to learn."

Turning to my Fort Weyr friend, I said, "Weyrleader N'ton, with your permission, I'd like to spend some time among the Fort weyrlings, learning about dragons and how to care for them."

"Why Fort?" he wondered, exchanging glances with F'lar and Lessa.

"It's the closest Weyr to the Healer Hall," I replied. "Silvina, is there someone there who would be willing to teach me what I need to know?"

"You want to apprentice at the Healer Hall?" she wondered, more than a little surprised.

"My ignorance today nearly killed Laneth," I muttered, head hung in shame, one hand stroking the soft, golden hide as I leaned against her neck. "I cannot… I must not… let that happen again." Looking over at Silvina, I asked, "Please, can you think of anyone who would be willing?"

"Your age might pose a problem," she answered, rubbing her chin. "Still, …" She eyed me closely. "You understand that an apprentice is the lowest of the low, no rank, very few possessions. Are you certain you are willing to endure that?"

"I have endured far worse for less reason," I sighed, shaking my head. "Silvina, I would gladly muck out the weyrling barracks at Fort Weyr for a full Turn if that's what it took."

"An interesting notion," N'ton remarked, grinning wryly. "Certainly no weyrlings would object to the help."

"Please, Silvina!" I beseeched the Harper Hall headwoman. "Is there no one you could ask?"

Without a word, she stepped over to Darla's queen, examining my recent handiwork with a surprisingly critical eye. When she finally turned to me, a smile on her face, I knew she was pleased.

"After hearing what you've done here today, John," she told me, gently patting Laneth's neck, "I'm sure Oldive himself would be more than willing to take you on!"

Taking her hands in mine, I squeezed them gratefully, sighing with relief. Goldie thought I was being foolish worrying so, twittering in my ear to let me know.

"Oh, wait!" I gasped, suddenly remembering. "What about Ryeena?"

In all the confusion, I'd nearly forgotten my young friend. She appeared nervous, even frightened, as I knelt in front of her.

"How about it, Ryeena?" I asked, taking her hands in mine, my eyes pleading with her. "Would you like to come with me to learn to be a dragon healer, too?"

Tears formed then ran down her cheeks, but the unexpected look of desolation in her eyes nearly crushed my heart.

"I can't!" she sobbed, pulling free of my grasp before running off.

"Ryeena!" I called out, leaping to my feet.

Wailing forlornly, her vision blurred by tears, Ryeena careened off through the gathered dragons. She didn't get far.

"Oooof!" she grunted, slamming unexpectedly into something firm but yielding.

"Whoof!" she gasped, landing rather painfully on her backside.

It took a moment to clear the tears from her eyes before she could make out Jaxom's dragon.

"Thank you, Ruth," I said, skidding to a stop nearby.

 _Why is she afraid?_ the white dragon wondered.

 _A good question,_ I silently agreed, the others stopping a short distance away as I slowly knelt beside my young friend.

"Ruth says you're frightened. Why, Ryeena? Don't you want to be a dragon healer?"

"I can't talk to them!" she sobbed, the anguish on her face painful to behold.

 _Then how did you hear Laneth's cry?_ I silently wondered.

Slowly reaching over, Ruth gently nuzzled Ryeena's tear-stained face, a reassuring hum coming from his throat.

"Ryeena," I spoke, taking a seat on the ground beside her, "can the healers who treat animals talk to them?"

"Well, no," she finally admitted, sniffling a little.

"Yet those people are still healers."

Ryeena looked up at me, the tears slowing, the anguish fading a little.

"I'd like to try something," I said, rising then extending my hand to her. "Come on."

Uncertain, Ryeena took my hand, and I helped her up. Then the two of us went over to F'lar and Lessa.

"Weyrwoman, does a dragon understand what is said regardless of who is speaking?" I asked.

"Yes, of course," she replied.

"Then, with your permission," I said, grinning as I squeezed Ryeena's hand, "I'd like to try a little experiment with Ramoth."

"Please," Lessa responded, gesturing for the two of us to precede her over to her dragon.

Stopping a short distance away, I turned to my young friend. "For a moment, Ryeena, I want you to pretend that you're a real dragon healer."

"But, John, …"

"Please, Ryeena, try."

Silently, she nodded, still uncertain.

"Weyrwoman Lessa and her dragon have just returned from fighting Thread," I said, gesturing from the dragonrider to her lifemate. "What would you do?"

Nervous, apprehensive, Ryeena glanced about at those gathered around us. "I …"

"Go on, child," Silvina encouraged her. "What would you do?"

"I'm not sure," she replied. "I think I'd …"

"What, Ryeena?" F'lar asked, appearing beside her. "Go on."

"Well, a dragon can't fight Thread if it can't fly," she answered, her brow furrowed with thought. "I think the first thing I'd do is check her wings for any Threadscoring."

Everyone smiled.

"Show us," I urged, pointing to Ramoth.

Squeezing Ryeena's shoulder gently to reassure her, I turned her toward Lessa's queen. With an audible gulp, she shyly moved a few steps closer.

"Weyrwoman, I …"

"Go on, child," Lessa told her, smiling kindly, "I'd like to see what you'd do."

Reverently, my young friend approached Ramoth's massive form. Then, hesitantly, as if her touch might shatter a fragile dream, she placed her hand ever so gently on the queen's side. For a long moment, she stood unmoving, lost in the rapture of that rare privilege. Then, looking up, she sighed before turning back to us. "I can't see anything. She's got her wings folded."

"Then ask her to extend them for you," Sharra suggested, gesturing with her arms.

Ramoth's massive head swung around to regard my young friend. Ryeena took an involuntary step backwards. Hardly surprising. Each of Ramoth's slowly whirling eyes was nearly as big as my young friend.

I glanced over at Lessa. No words were said. None were needed. I joined my young friend.

"Ryeena?"

"John, I don't think I can do this!" she whispered, clinging desperately to my arm.

"Why not?"

"This is Lessa's dragon!" she hissed, her voice frightened. "Oh, John, I do want to go with you, to learn to be a dragon healer. But what if I do something wrong? What if they don't like what I say? What if they won't let me go with you?"

Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. I gently wiped them away. "Then, I won't go, either."

Her breath catching sharply, hands flying to her mouth, Ryeena stared at me, horrified that I would even consider such a thing. "Oh, John, you can't possibly mean that!"

"I meant every word, Ryeena. You're my best friend."

Goldie appeared suddenly, hovering between us, scolding very loudly as if to say, _Hey, what about me?!_

Chuckling to myself, Ryeena giggling along with me, I managed to coax Goldie into landing on my shoulder.

"Okay, my best _human_ friend," I sighed, stroking my little queen's neck ridge.

That seemed to do the trick. With a satisfied cheep, Goldie flicked her wings to her back and gently wrapped her tail about my neck. When I looked up, Ryeena was busy stroking Bolter's neck ridge, her tiny friend crooning reassurances to her.

"Ryeena," I quietly said, taking her trembling hands in mine and squeezing them reassuringly, "everyone was pleased by the answer you just gave."

"Really?" she gasped, disbelief in her eyes.

I nodded, giving her hands another reassuring squeeze.

"She is magnificent, isn't she?" I asked, marveling at the many colored facets of Ramoth's enormous eye. "And big, too!"

"Yes!" Ryeena laughed, relaxing a little. Then, eyeing me intently, she asked, "You really meant it? About not going without me?"

I nodded, squeezing her hands one final time. "Now we'd best get on with this. I don't think it would be polite to keep them waiting much longer."

Moving aside, I let Ryeena approach Lessa's queen.

Drawing a deep breath to steady herself, she said, "Ramoth, I am Ryeena. If it's alright with you, I'd like to look at your wings, please. Could you extend them for me?"

Lessa's queen regarded Ryeena for a moment, her visible eye a slowly whirling blue. Then, humming softly, she closed her first inner lids briefly, as if winking, and slowly spread her wings.

"She did it!" Ryeena gasped, hardly believing it, grinning broadly, bubbling over with excitement. "She understood me!"

Glancing quickly back at the two Benden leaders, she found F'lar was smiling, Lessa nodding encouragement.

"What now, Healer?" I prompted.

Ryeena looked back to Ramoth's patiently extended wing. "It's too high for me to check it properly. Ramoth, could you dip your …" She paused a moment to check her orientation. "Your left wing, please?"

Obediently, Ramoth lowered her wingtip right into Ryeena's waiting hands.

"Oh, John, I can't believe it!" Her face was radiant with joy. Bolter trilled sweetly, sharing her happiness as he head-stroked her cheek.

"You see, Ryeena? Maybe you can't hear dragons, but you can still talk to them, and they can understand you. You can be a dragon healer!"

Ryeena wept then, not from sadness but from boundless joy. Gently, I placed my hand on hers, Ramoth's golden wing still clutched in her fingers.

"This wing looks okay. Why don't you go check the other one?"

"Alright," Ryeena replied, reluctantly letting go.

There was a lilt to her steps, however, as she made her way around to the other side, Bolter taking wing to lead the way.

"Thank you, Weyrwoman," I spoke as our friends joined me. "I couldn't have done it without your help."

"She's an intelligent girl, John," Sharra commented. "I can see why you believe she has healer potential."

"You really would have given up being a dragon healer, wouldn't you?" Lessa asked. "She means that much to you?"

"I have had so very few close friends in my life, Weyrwoman," I sighed, Goldie humming quietly as she head-stroked my cheek. "Ryeena was the first face I saw when I awoke after the crash. She has cared for me, taught me about Pern, and made me laugh. I have never had a friend like her before. I think I would die if I lost that friendship."

I hadn't been aware I was weeping until I felt the tears fall against my arm. Jaxom put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

" _ **LESSA!**_ "

Ryeena's desperate cry sent all of us bolting around to where she was standing, gently cradling Ramoth's other wingtip. "Weyrwoman, forgive me, I didn't mean …"

"It's alright, child," Lessa assured her. "What's wrong?"

"Look!" she exclaimed, pointing to a small area near the end of Ramoth's wingtip.

"That looks like … " F'lar started to say.

"A threadscore!" Lessa finished for him, gently taking the wingtip from Ryeena.

The characteristic ragged edges of the wound told all.

"A minor brush, to be sure," N'ton commented, examining the damage, "but scored all the same."

"Ramoth, why didn't you say something?" Lessa inquired.

 _It didn't hurt that much and would soon have healed,_ her dragon answered in a low rumble. _There were more exciting things happening then._

"Oh, you great, silly numbwit!" Lessa scolded her dragon, patting the wing gingerly. "What am I to do with you?"

With a sudden, sharp intake of breath, Lessa whirled so abruptly to face me that I flinched, rocking back on my heels.

"You can feel a dragon's pain when you touch them," she spoke, her eyes snapping with anger. "You were touching Ramoth's wing on the other side! You knew about this, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," I answered without apology, "but I said nothing to Ryeena. I merely suggested she check this wing, nothing more. She was the one who found the threadscore." Then, tears brimming in my eyes, I said, "I'm so proud of you, Ryeena!"

"Don't you see?" F'lar added. "John could have said something, but he wanted Ryeena to prove herself. And, by the Egg, she did, too! Well done, child, well done!"

Ryeena blushed crimson, abashed at such glowing praise from the Benden Weyrleader.

"Yes … yes, she did," Lessa sighed, her anger abating somewhat. "You did do well, child." Then, giving her a gentle hug, she added, "Thank you for finding that for me."

"You're welcome, Weyrwoman," Ryeena replied, pulling away slightly. "Thank you for giving me a chance to help."

"Ah, but your healing duties aren't over yet, my dear. You'd best fetch some redwort and a pot of numbweed if you're to properly treat that wound."

Ryeena gasped, wide-eyed, disbelieving. "You want me to …"

"If you're to be a proper dragon healer, you'd best learn to complete your obligations to a patient. Now, go find what you need and don't be long about it."

Her tone was strict, but the smile on Lessa's face was comforting.

"Yes, Weyrwoman! Right away!"

Ryeena dashed off so fast I had to blink my eyes to dispel the illusion that she'd gone _between_.

"And, next time …" Lessa growled, fixing first me then Ramoth with an admonitory stare, "you let me know about it right away. Clear?"

"Absolutely, Weyrwoman!" I replied, smiling.

Ramoth merely grunted.

"This should do it," Ryeena said, returning with a small bottle of redwort, some cleansing rags, and a pot of numbweed.

"Just enough," Silvina noted approvingly. "Nothing wasted."

"My father …" Ryeena began, a momentary look of sorrow crossing her face which just as quickly vanished, "he was always on us about never wasting anything."

Ryeena set to work at once, treating the small threadscore on Ramoth's wingtip.

"This may sting a little," she cautioned Lessa's dragon, pouring some of the redwort onto a rag.

With great care, Ryeena gently wiped the threadscore clean.

 _Her hands are gentle, lifemate,_ Ramoth quietly rumbled.

Once satisfied the wound was thoroughly cleaned, Ryeena slathered on a layer of numbweed to cover it. Ramoth never even flinched.

 _I like her._

My young friend looked up into the slowly whirling deep blue eyes.

"She likes me," Ryeena sighed, her smile growing as the queen began a contented hum.

"She likes your gentle hands," Lessa told her, patting Ramoth's head. "Now, we'd best be going."

"Of course, Weyrwoman."

Gathering her supplies, Ryeena backed away as Lessa boarded her dragon. Entranced, we watched as the Benden Weyrwoman attached the fighting straps to her belt and lowered her goggles.

" **WAIT!** " I suddenly called out.

"What is it, John?" Lessa asked, lifting her goggles.

Spirits of my ancestors, it had been such an innocent comment, occurring at just the right moment with just the right sequence of events that its significance had nearly escaped me!

"A moment, Weyrwoman, please. This may be important!"

My heart raced, my mind staggered by the possibility. Could it be the reason she had heard Laneth? I turned to Ryeena.

"How did you know Ramoth liked you?"

"Huh?"

"How did you know?"

"Well, you heard her, John. She started humming after I slathered on the numbweed."

"We all heard it," D'ren remarked. "What are you getting at?"

"Just this," I explained, my eyes never leaving my young friend. "Ryeena said Ramoth liked her an instant _**before**_ the humming began. Weyrwoman, I think she heard Ramoth!"

"What?!" Ryeena squeaked, dropping her supplies, the redwort spilling all over, the numbweed pot clattering noisily in the dirt.

"Are you sure, John?" Sharra wondered.

"Have Ramoth ask her something … anything!" I suggested.

Ryeena looked confused by my excitement. Lessa merely shrugged, then Ramoth swung her head around.

 _How many Turns do you have, little one?_

When Ryeena didn't respond, Lessa sighed, "She didn't hear it, John."

"She hadn't heard Ramoth's comment about her gentle hands, either," I muttered, running my fingers through my hair. "Yet I'm positive she heard your dragon say she liked her. There has to be a connection."

And then, like a bolt from the blue, with a snap of my fingers, it hit me! "Of course! Ryeena, touch Ramoth!"

"What?!" she gasped, glancing nervously up at Benden's Weyrwoman.

Lessa nodded permission.

Hesitantly, Ryeena placed her hand back on the giant queen.

"Now, Weyrwoman, have her ask again."

Ramoth repeated the question.

"I've twelve, please," Ryeena responded.

And then she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth even as Bolter, sitting astride her shoulder, bugled his elation.

Lessa was out of her fighting straps in an instant, sliding down Ramoth's side as the rest of our friends drew closer.

"I heard her!" Ryeena whispered in awe. "John, I heard her!"

The broad grin on my face was all the proof anyone needed that I was thrilled beyond words!

"What's going on?" F'lar asked, coming over just as Lessa reached the ground.

"Seems we've found someone else who can hear dragons," Lessa replied, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Ryeena?!" F'lar gasped, pointing to her.

"It would appear, Weyrleader, that she possesses a gift not unlike my own," I explained. "Whereas I must touch a dragon to feel its pain, Ryeena seems able to hear them through her touch."

"Can she?" F'lar asked.

"Well, she answered Ramoth's question about her age," Lessa replied, smiling at Ryeena. "If John hadn't suspected she'd heard Ramoth's comment about liking her, we'd have winged out of here never knowing!"

"Maybe that's why Ruth found you so interesting that day at Ruatha," Jaxom mused, studying my young friend.

 _Ramoth is excited about the little one,_ Mnementh rumbled as he sauntered over.

"Seems we've found someone else who can speak to dragons, old friend," F'lar spoke aloud.

Sniffing in surprise, his dragon peered intently at Ryeena.

"That's not entirely true, Weyrleader," I countered. "So far, Ryeena's gift has only allowed her to _**hear**_ Ramoth. She hasn't as yet tried to speak to a dragon through that link."

"True," Lessa mused.

"However, if you and your dragons are willing, we can resolve that question right now."

"Well, Ryeena?" F'lar asked, turning to her.

Slowly, she drew her eyes away from Mnementh's scrutiny. "Only if you don't object, Weyrleader."

"Lessa?"

"I think we'd be terribly remiss in not finding out."

"Agreed. Very well, John, proceed."

"Nervous?" I asked as I knelt in front of Ryeena.

"Uh huh," she answered, but the sparkle in her eyes was proof of her barely contained excitement.

"Remember, when you speak to them, just think it, don't say it out loud. Alright?"

"Okay. What should I say?"

"Anything. If they hear, they'll answer."

Nodding, Ryeena stepped first to Ramoth. Placing her hand gently on the queen's neck, she closed her eyes, concentrating.

 _Three days ago_ , Lessa and I heard Ramoth say.

"What did you ask her?" Lessa wondered.

"When she last ate," Ryeena sighed, her eyes glittering with delight. "She heard me, and I heard her!"

"Now try Mnementh," F'lar said, indicating his dragon.

"Weyrleader," Ryeena spoke, hesitant and looking a little fearful, "would it be alright if I try Ruth instead?"

"If that is your wish," F'lar replied, shrugging. "But why?"

"I'll bet I know," Jaxom responded, nodding and smiling at my young friend. "It's because Ruth was the one who first singled you out, isn't it?"

Ryeena nodded, a shy smile on her face.

"Very well, then," F'lar agreed.

Ruth came forward, his eyes a slowly whirling green. Ryeena placed her hand on Jaxom's dragon and once more closed her eyes.

 _Two bucks_ , Ruth responded.

"Ryeena?" Jaxom prompted her.

"I asked him what he last had to eat. He said two bucks."

"Liar!" Jaxom protested, startling everyone. He turned to his dragon. "You had three, you great greedy hulk!"

 _But that last one was so small and stringy, how could you even count that one?_ his dragon whined, sending Jaxom, Sharra, Lessa, Ryeena, and I into a fit of giggling.

"So, it is true," the Benden Weyrleader said, standing before Ryeena, her eyes averted in embarrassment. "Think Oldive would accept another dragon healer apprentice, Silvina?"

Ryeena gasped, staring in disbelief at the Benden Weyrleader.

"You mean I can …" she began, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Aside from John's remarkable gift, I can't imagine a better talent for a dragon healer. Can you, Lessa?"

"No," she declared. "Besides, it would be criminal to break up such a well-matched team, wouldn't you agree, John?"

Tears of delight were my answer, falling freely from my face as Ryeena and I hugged each other.

"Silvina, will you pass along our recommendations to Master Oldive?" F'lar asked as he and Lessa remounted their great beasts.

"Indeed I shall, Weyrleader," she replied, giving Ryeena a hug about the shoulders. "It will be good to have them back at the Harper Hall. We've missed them both terribly."

"Be sure to add my recommendations to the list," N'ton said, thumping me on the shoulder.

"And mine," Darla emphatically chimed in, one hand on her queen's muzzle.

"Don't forget ours," Sharra added, linking arms with her husband.

"With your permission, Weyrleader," D'ren spoke up, "I will make the necessary arrangements to transport them to the Harper Hall, to repay the debt we at Ista Weyr owe them for what they did here today."

"They are certainly in good hands, then," Lessa called out, cinching down her riding straps. "May you always rise to fight Thread, D'ren!"

"My best to you, Benden!" he called out as Ramoth and Mnementh leaped skyward, bearing their riders aloft.

 _He still would have deserved it!_ F'lar's dragon rumbled, speaking in an aside about T'rell.

 _I'd've found his dragon for sure, then, wouldn't I?_ I answered.

Rumbling his equivalent of laughter, the two Benden dragons winked _between_.

"Well, get your stuff together, you two!" D'ren said, turning to us as the remaining dragons and riders began taking wing, returning to their own weyrs, the excitement finally over. "We've a long journey to the Harper Hall!"

Marching off to his dragon, D'ren never saw our friends gather around, offering their congratulations and best wishes. Just as he never saw me hugging Ryeena, swinging her around in delight, the two of us grinning like wine-happy fools, Goldie and Bolter swirling above us, trilling their elation.


	19. Chapter 19 - Welcome Home!

Chapter 19

Welcome Home!

 **Honor those the dragons heed**

 **In thought and favor, word and deed.**

 **Worlds are lost or worlds are saved**

 **From those dangers dragon-braved.**

AT LONG LAST, I FINALLY KNEW WHERE I BELONGED!

From the moment Ryeena and I had set out from Ruatha Hold following the Gather, I'd had no idea what I was looking for, no inkling of where I fit in Pern society.

And then, as if guided by the hand of Fate, the answer literally fell out of the sky and right into my lap … in the form of a Thread-ravaged queen dragon.

Near mindless with pain, her lifemate unable to help, Laneth had apparently seized upon my telepathic outcry and jumped _between_ with her rider, bringing them both to Moreta's Hold … and to me. Was it merely an act of desperation, or had she in that brief moment of contact felt something special about the sender? Whatever the reason, the soul-searing experiences at that eastern hold had finally shown me where my skills could best be used to greatest effect. I now knew where my destiny lay.

Arrangements were made with the local fishermen to transport the injured rider, Darla, and her queen, Laneth, by boat back to Ista Weyr. Master Idarolan himself commanded the vessel that would ferry them across the waters of the Southern Sea back to their island home.

"You will come and visit us, won't you?" Darla asked as she was being loaded onto the boat.

"I would be terribly remiss in my duties as a healer if I didn't!" I chuckled, giving her extended hand a warm squeeze. "Take care of your lifemate, dragonrider. We'll see you soon!"

Once the vessel was well away, Ryeena and I returned to Moreta Hold to thank all the holders for their greatly appreciated assistance.

But what of Kismet and Ryeena's own runner? How could we get them home? D'ren's dragon couldn't possibly carry them.

"Why not leave them here with us?" one of the holders suggested. "We can take care of them for you, and you'll always have a runner available when you come east!"

A practical and sensible solution to our dilemma … for which I thanked the holder profusely. But when I asked about the cost of their care, we were told there was none.

"Are you kidding?" the holder chuckled, slapping me on the back. "By The First Egg, after what you two did here today, it's the least we can do to repay you."

That was it then. Nothing left to take care of. Tears filled my eyes as I made my farewells to Kismet. In the time we'd been together, I'd grown quite fond of my runnerbeast friend. With a final affectionate pat on the side of his head, I turned and boarded D'ren's dragon.

Word must have been sent on ahead about our arrival. The moment Ryeena and I popped out of _between_ astride D'ren's bronze Groth, a full wing of Fort Weyr's fighting dragons was there to escort us down to an endless sea of people assembled on the Fort Gather meadow. Wherever we turned, smiling faces could be seen. In every window in the Harper Hall and those on the face of Fort Hold, more could be seen leaning out, waving, cheering. It was such a reversal of all the fear I'd harbored for so long that my eyes overflowed anew, but this time with tears of joy.

"Welcome back, you two!" Sebell greeted us as I helped Ryeena dismount. "It's good to see you again!"

"It's great to be back, Master Sebell," I said, vigorously shaking his hand. "I hadn't realized how much I would miss this place."

In the next instant, the air around us exploded with fire lizards… darting, swooping, filling the air with delighted, delirious keening. I laughed freely, standing perfectly still as Menolly's fair fought for roosting spots on my outstretched arms, neck, and head. They had nearly settled into place when Goldie appeared, piercing the air with an angry shriek, sending Menolly's fair scattering in surprise.

"And a queen fire lizard, too!" Sebell laughed as Goldie backwinged to my shoulder, gently wrapping her tail about my neck before turning to regard the Masterharper and his own queen, Kimi. "You've certainly been busy since you were here last, John."

"Oh, alright," a familiar voice complained as the fire lizards once more swirled around us, filling the air with raucous caroling. "I suppose I'll have no rest until you've had a chance to say 'Hello!'"

"Incorrigible," Menolly groaned, stepping up beside her husband.

"Masterharper, about Beauty and her fair, I …"

"No need for apologies, John," she assured me. "You did what you had to do to save Darla and Laneth."

Menolly remained quiet for a long moment, a warm smile on her lips, awe and wonder on her face as she silently regarded me. "From what we've been able to gather, every single dragon and fire lizard on Pern heard that cry of yours! Truly astounding!"

"And you, young lady!" Menolly exclaimed, giving Ryeena a warm hug. "I had a feeling there was something special about you, but this I would never have guessed!"

"You really must tell us the whole story once you've had a chance to rest and gather your wits," she addressed us both. "And don't you fret about them," she laughed as her fair swirled around us once more. "I think they missed your singing."

It was true! From the images they broadcast in greeting, it was clear they were overjoyed to see Ryeena and I … and excited about the next time we could all sing together.

 _Welcome home, friend._

Breath catching, I spun in the direction of the Fort Hold fire heights.

"John, what is it?" Ryeena asked, her gaze following my own.

A blue and his rider were there, watching events unfold, just like the first time I'd spoken to …

"Serith," I replied, turning first to my young friend and then to Menolly and Sebell. "Please excuse me, Masterharpers. There's something long overdue that I must take care of."

"Of course," Sebell replied, understanding in his eyes.

"Come along then, apprentice," Menolly said, taking Ryeena's hand. "We'll get you settled while your friend takes care of some personal business."

Fortunately, I still remembered the way through Fort Hold up to the fire heights. Wading through the gathered throng, though, slowed me down, each person wanting to shake my hand or touch my arm or just smile at me. Goldie was having none of it. At the first press of the crowd, she winged off to the Hall rooftop to wait.

It was a long climb to the crowning heights. Breathless from my exertions, I finally made it to where T'ledon and his dragon were waiting. Slowly, shame hindering my steps, I approached the pair, Serith watching through idly whirling blue-green eyes.

"T'ledon," I spoke, bowing to him. "Serith," I said, bowing just as deeply to his dragon.

 _It is good to finally meet you,_ the blue rumbled.

"And about time, too!" T'ledon snarled. "Do you have any idea the confusion you caused us?"

"Blue rider, I am truly sorry," I muttered, sinking to one knee, head lowered in shame. "Please believe me, I meant no harm."

 _You should have come to us, John,_ Serith hummed, nuzzling my shoulder. _There was no need to endure such needless worry and pain._

"John, is it?" T'ledon wondered, eyebrows rising as he looked at his dragon. Seeing the worry on my face, he added, "It's okay. Dragons usually don't name people other than their riders." Helping me to stand, he said, "It's a mark of how special Serith thinks you are. And I agree."

"Dragonrider, I …" I stammered, feeling a flush come to my cheeks. "I don't know what to say."

"N'ton told us about that friend of yours who was killed," T'ledon said, patting his dragon's neck. "Shards, no wonder you were being so secretive."

"I am sorry about that," I muttered, shaking my head, "but the memory was just too painful to overcome. I was terrified of how you and the other riders might react to someone, especially a man, who could speak to any dragon. Please forgive me."

"Might well have done the same if I'd gone through what you had," T'ledon assured me, a firm hand gripping my shoulder. Then, laughing, he added, "I still can't get over how strong that cry of yours was! It gave Serith a headache!"

"What?!" I gasped, horrified as I stared at the blue. "Serith, I … I had no idea it was that strong. Does it still hurt you?"

 _A little_ , he admitted.

"If you wish, you can share that pain with me," I explained, holding up my hand. "It's only fair since I was the cause."

"Then what we heard is true?!" T'ledon gasped. "You can actually feel a dragon's pain, share it just by touching them?"

"A most curious gift, to be sure," I said, holding up my palms. "But as a dragon healer, it leads me unerringly to wherever one may be hurt. With your permission …"

T'ledon nodded, and I gently laid my hand on Serith's neck. In the next instant, I'm swaying slightly, eyes clamped shut, groaning under my breath.

"What is it?" T'ledon asked, a firm hand on my shoulder. "What do you feel?"

"A knife," I groaned, leaning against his dragon for support, "stabbing me between the eyes!"

"That's just where …" T'ledon gasped, wide-eyed in surprise. "Hey, it has gotten less! Shards and Shells, it really is true!"

Trilling in alarm, Goldie appeared, broadcasting distress as she circled above us. With a quick flutter, she settled to my shoulder, twining her tail gently about my neck.

 _My little sister is worried about you,_ Serith rumbled as Goldie headstroked my cheek, radiating love with every caress.

"I'm alright, little friend," I assured her, hugging her tiny head to my cheek. "It was my cry that caused Serith's pain."

 _She says you didn't mean to_ , the blue dragon informed me.

"That doesn't excuse the fact that I did," I wept, tears falling from my cheeks as I looked at T'ledon's dragon. "Oh, Serith, I had no idea my cry had been that strong."

 _It will pass_ , he thrummed.

"You were the first dragon I spoke to," I sobbed, burying my tear-stained face against his neck, "and I hurt you! Serith, I'm so sorry, so very sorry!"

Humming quietly, his gentle nuzzling of my face let me know all was forgiven.

Goldie and I stayed with the watch pair until Serith's headache had at last faded away. Then, with a final apology and a promise to speak to them whenever they wished, we started back down to the Harper Hall.

The tocsin announcing the evening meal sounded just as I reached the passageway. Goldie took the more direct route, diving over the lip of the fire heights. At times, I envied her mobility. By the time I made the descent and emerged into the Hall courtyard, the ledge above the courtyard doors was full of fire lizards. With a silent promise to feed Goldie as soon as I was done, I entered the dining hall, the room alive with the sounds of people eating.

"John!"

Turning at the sound of my name, I spotted Sebell waving to me from the Masters' table, Ryeena sitting beside him. From her expression, it was clear she was more than a little nervous about being in such august company.

"Sit!" he invited me, gesturing to the empty place beside my young friend. As I settled into the chair, he said, "Ryeena has been kind enough to fill us in on what happened. She also told us about your Academy friend."

Sebell shook his head slowly, eyes full of sympathy.

"No wonder you were behaving so strangely. But enough of that. Silvina tells us the two of you performed a miracle repairing the damage to Laneth's mangled wing and Darla's Thread-scored leg."

"Silvina is being entirely too kind, Masterharper," I sighed, wringing my hands in frustration. "All we really did today was buy Laneth some time. She desperately needs extensive reconstructive surgery if her wing is to be saved."

"Then you still believe it is possible?!" Oldive gasped. "Even with all the damage?!"

"I could be there right now helping her!" I growled, pounding the table in frustration. "But I don't know a damned thing about dragon physiology!"

"Take it easy, John," Ryeena whispered, gently covering my hands to calm me down. "It's not your fault."

"I'm a bit confused," Sebell commented, leaning closer. "How did you know then if what you tried would work?"

"I didn't," I muttered, shaking my head, "but I couldn't just stand there and do nothing. Without proper circulation, Laneth would've lost her entire wing … and her life. I was praying the venous tissue that I used would be strong enough to bridge the gap left by the Thread scoring. So far, I've been lucky. At least now Laneth has a chance."

"Well, stopgap or not, it's still a remarkable achievement," Master Oldive asserted, nodding his approval. "Wherever did you learn such skills?"

"At the Star Service Academy," I replied. "Field surgical techniques are required training for any first contact team."

"First contact?" Domick wondered, his expression puzzled.

"Where we attempt to make initial contact with a new alien race," I explained.

"You've been on those kinds of missions before?" Sebell asked.

"Over a dozen in all," I sighed, smiling as I recalled.

"Were the Kendites one of them?" Ryeena asked.

"No," I told her, grinning. "Keymon and his people were already members of the Federated Sentient Planets long before I joined the Service."

"Have you ever had to use your surgical training in the past?" Oldive wondered.

"No," I admitted, "but I'm glad I paid attention in class. That knowledge proved to be of some use today."

"Of some use, he says!" Oldive laughed, thumping the table with his fist.

"You are far too modest, John," Sebell said, smiling at me. "What you did today outstrips anything our healers have ever accomplished. I'm sure Master Oldive would agree that we haven't seen a veterinary surgeon of your caliber since Lady Moreta!"

"I appreciate your words, Master Sebell," I muttered, shaking my head, "but I do not deserve such praise. The much-honored Moreta would never have been so careless. Because of me, Laneth nearly died today."

"And thanks to you, she didn't!" argued Ryeena, giving my arm a hug. "John, don't you see? Because you could speak to any dragon, you were able to keep Laneth from going _between_ , saving not only her life but that of her rider!"

"What I find curious," Master Oldive spoke, "is why Laneth appeared at Moreta's Hold at all. Why not return to their home at Ista Weyr? Surely she must've known healers would be waiting there to help them!"

"Maybe it had something to do with the extent of her injuries," Silvina suggested as she approached the table.

"In what way?" Domick wondered, scowling under a furrowed brow.

"As you said, Oldive," Silvina went on. "Laneth would've known that healers would be waiting for them back at their weyr. The only reason she would've sought out another was if she felt her injuries were far too severe for the weyr healers to handle." Looking straight at me, she added, "The real question is how could Laneth have known about John's unique healing talents or where to find him?"

"Of course," I whispered, fingers snapping in a flash of insight.

"You have a theory?" Sebell prompted, he and the other masters leaning closer.

"Did Ryeena tell you about the cry she 'heard'?" I asked.

My young friend nodded.

One hand on my forehead, I told them, "It was so intense and painful that, without thinking, I cried out, begging whoever it was to 'Stop, please!'"

"And in that brief moment of contact, Laneth sensed their salvation," Menolly concluded, "homing in on you like a beacon! No wonder they appeared at Moreta's Hold!"

"Astonishing!" Oldive whispered, eyeing me with renewed respect. "Your combined talents couldn't have come together at a better time, John. And what you lacked in knowledge and experience you more than made up for with courage, determination, and self-sacrifice. While you are here, we shall be certain to correct that lack so that you can finish what you started."

"Finish?!" I spluttered, staring at him. "But, surely, there is another healer with more experience …"

"Alas, if only that was true," Oldive muttered, his expression grim as he looked about the table. "Sadly, invasive surgical techniques like yours are practically unheard of on Pern. Only recently … and very reluctantly … have our people begun to explore them again."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! Such rudimentary life-saving techniques, and they were unknown on Pern? What could have happened in this planet's past that their ancestors had abandoned such practices?

"A truly remarkable tale," Oldive said, tapping my plate with his knife. "But enough for now. Eat, both of you. After such an exhausting day, you need the nourishment. Time enough tomorrow to begin gauging your standard."

My stomach chose that moment to let everyone at the table, including me, know just how hungry I was. In all the excitement, I hadn't even given food a thought.

Once dinner was over and we were released, Ryeena and I hurried out to the courtyard to feed our fire lizards. Menolly and her fair were already there. Camo, one of the kitchen drudges, was holding a bowl of chopped meat in one hand while feeding some of her fair with the other. His face lit up when we joined them.

"More pretties!" he sighed with delight. "Camo feed new pretties?"

"Looks like you have all you can handle," I chuckled, passing some meat up to Goldie as Auntie One and Diver landed on my upheld arm. "Don't worry, Camo. You'll have plenty of time to feed the pretties."

"Pretties pretty," he sighed, a contented look on his half-wit's face.

"Yes, they are," Ryeena added, alternately feeding her Bolter and Menolly's Rocky and Auntie Two.

"It will certainly be easier to feed them all with you two around," Menolly laughed, Beauty snatching a chunk of meat from her fingers, Lazybones and Poll pestering her for their own portions. "Alright, here, you greedy guts!"

It didn't take long for the twelve fire lizards to devour the contents of Camo's bowl. With a promise that he could help feed the pretties in the morning, Menolly sent Camo back to the kitchen. The Harper Hall headwoman arrived soon after to escort me to my new quarters.

"Silvina, the apprentice dorms are that way," I commented, pointing across the courtyard from the top of the main stairs.

"Yes, I know," she responded before continuing inside.

To my surprise, she led the way up to the second level of the Harper Hall to a room overlooking the courtyard, the very same one that had been Menolly's home so many Turns ago.

Goldie obviously liked it, trilling sweetly as she flitted about the place, examining every nook and cranny.

"Silvina, I couldn't possibly!" I protested, gesturing around me. "What will the other apprentices think?"

"And what gave you the idea that you'd be starting out here as a mere apprentice?" she asked, arms folded across her chest as she glared at me in mock anger.

"But I thought …"

"John, I saw the work you did on Laneth. Oldive is right. That was a masterful effort, even if it was just a stopgap to buy you time. I honestly can't think of a single healer, save perhaps Oldive himself, who would've even considered attempting what you did."

"She's right, John," Ryeena added.

"Certainly, no apprentice could have accomplished such a feat," Silvina went on. "I intend recommending to Oldive that, at the very least, we start you out here at the journeyman level."

"Journeyman?!" I spluttered, seeing my surprise mirrored on Ryeena's face.

 _You deserve it_ , Goldie snorted.

"Yes, journeyman," Silvina declared, laying a reassuring hand on my arm. "Modest as you are, John, you have more healing talent than you realize. Oldive nearly fell out of his chair when I told him about Darla and Laneth. He's hoping that, in exchange for the knowledge you seek, you'd be willing to teach him what you know."

It was fortunate that the bed was right behind me, for my knees became suddenly so weak that I sank back onto the cushioning rushes.

"Silvina, I …" I stammered, stunned by this unexpected development. "He wants me … to teach him?!"

"Yes!" she declared, grinning at my surprise. "It isn't often around here that the master becomes the student and vice versa. Given what little I saw today, there is a great deal that you can teach us. But, enough for now. You've both had a long, trying day. Sleep is what you need. And don't you worry about Ryeena. She'll be in the room next door."

"Next door?!" I spluttered, staring at my young friend.

"I tried to talk her into putting me in the apprentice dorms," Ryeena said.

"The healing arts are the most demanding disciplines on all of Pern!" Silvina declared, gently settling Ryeena beside me on the bed. "Do either of you honestly believe you would find the privacy necessary to study there?"

My friend and I just looked at each other, not uttering a sound.

"Then there is the matter of … what did you call it," Silvina mused, settling into a chair opposite us. "Oh, yes! The psionics training you underwent. You will need privacy to refine your skills, to finally apply what you struggled so hard to learn. Another reason for putting the two of you here."

"But, Silvina," Ryeena argued, "my way isn't like John's."

"True enough, but wasn't he the one who first suspected your unique gift, my dear?"

"Well, yeah," Ryeena admitted, glancing at me.

"Don't you see, child? Your friend has been schooled in these matters. He may be able to help you improve your own ability. Another reason for the two of you to be close to one another."

"The other students may resent such favoritism, Silvina," I sighed, glancing out the window. "The last thing I want is to alienate anyone because of my gift."

"Me, either," Ryeena declared, slipping her arm through mine.

"Word has already been passed throughout the Hall that these rooms were specifically ordered by Masters Sebell and Oldive, so you needn't worry," Silvina assured us.

 _It is a nice place,_ Goldie chirped as she landed on my shoulder.

Just then, the door to the room burst open, and in stumbled …

"Jerritt!" Ryeena cried, running to give the winded Harper apprentice a warm hug.

"You're really back!" he sighed, grinning broadly as he looked from Ryeena to me.

"Silvina!" he gasped, finally spotting the Harper headwoman. "I'm sorry! I didn't … that is, I …"

"Knew it wouldn't take you long to find your way up here, you scamp!" she told him, slowly rising from her chair. "Relax, Jerritt. If anyone in this Hall deserves to be here, you do. You're their friend."

And that gave me an idea.

"Eh pa namee ya ekar nu, zu ch'nev," I said, grinning at Jerritt. It is good to see you, my friend.

"Mokaiy anu, ch'nev," he sighed, a beaming smile on his face as he clasped his forearm to mine. Welcome home, friend.

"I see you haven't forgotten your lessons!"

"He's had precious little opportunity to," Silvina chuckled, a cryptic grin on her face.

"You've no idea what it's been like around here since you left," Jerritt moaned, collapsing on the bed.

"What do you mean?" I wondered, Ryeena's expression mirroring my own confusion.

"When you left, I became the only one who knew anything about the Kendite language," he explained. "Not a sevenday has gone by that I haven't been plagued with questions from every apprentice, journeyman, and master in the Hall trying to interpret and understand the words of 'Keymon's Song.' A curious thing that."

"What?" Ryeena wondered.

"Well, ever since you left, no one's been able to reproduce that dream-like state you seem to inspire," Jerritt explained, looking straight at me. "Why is that?"

"Dunno," I said, shrugging. Yawning, I added, "Right now, the only thing I'm interested in is a good night's sleep. I'm bushed!"

"I'll bet!" Jerritt laughed, grinning broadly.

"Then sleep you shall," Silvina declared, guiding my two young friends to the door. "Time enough tomorrow to finish getting reacquainted."

Once Jerritt and Ryeena were in the hallway, Silvina turned to me, concern etched deeply on her face. "Do you really think you can help Laneth, John?"

"I only know I have to try, Silvina," I grimly replied. "The thought of a flightless dragon …"

The mere notion of such a devastating tragedy chilled me to the marrow, causing me to shiver violently.

"Sleep well, dragon healer," she said, a gentle smile on her face as she pulled the door closed.

The day's excitement and exertions had taken more of a toll than I realized. In the space of but a few dozen heartbeats, I was fast asleep, Goldie curled up beside me.

The following morning, the tocsin sounded, summoning everyone to breakfast. But I was so firmly asleep I never even stirred. At least not until Goldie started nibbling on my ears, rousing me from my bed.

Half awake, I managed to pull on some trousers, belt a tunic in place, then stumble barefoot down the steps.

Just as I was reaching for the handle, the door to the dining hall burst open, unleashing a flood of humanity. It was like being caught in a tsunami, thrown about and swept along by the relentless flow. By the time I finally worked my way free of the human tide, I'd been carried clear out to the Hall courtyard.

Glancing back through the doorway, I could see apprentices clearing the remains of breakfast from the tables. In the other direction, Menolly, Ryeena, and beaming Camo were busy feeding the fire lizards.

"Well, at least one of us will get to eat this morning," I sighed, trudging across the courtyard.

Rocky and Diver came to greet me, landing on my upheld arm. Scooping up a handful of meat from Camo's brimming bowl, I passed it up to the incessantly creeling Goldie before turning my attention to Menolly's pair.

"What happened, John?" Ryeena asked, feeding a piece of meat to Poll perched on her arm. "We didn't see you at breakfast!"

"Overslept," I managed to say around a massive yawn. "Never been this tired before. If it hadn't been for Goldie nibbling on my ear, I'd've probably slept through lunch!"

"Fighting Thread, saving Darla and Laneth," Menolly commented, Beauty snatching a chunk of meat from her fingers, "not to mention all the strain you'd put yourself under trying to keep your gifts a secret. It's no wonder you're exhausted!"

"Think I'll be able to grab something from the kitchen when we're done?" I wondered, my stomach growling in emphasis.

"No need," someone replied.

Silvina appeared behind me, a broad smile on her face, a mug of klah in one hand, bread and cheese in the other.

"Here," she chuckled, taking over feeding Goldie, Rocky, and Diver as she passed the steaming mug to me.

"Bless you, Silvina!" I sighed, shaking my head to clear the night's cobwebs.

The klah was fabulous! While she continued to feed Goldie, Rocky, and Diver, Silvina deftly passed me some bread and cheese so that I, too, would have something to eat. In no time at all, I was feeling a whole lot better.

When our fire lizards were finally sated, they retired to the roof to sun themselves. Menolly returned the satisfied Camo to his duties in the kitchen while Silvina led Ryeena off to the Healer Hall, adding a parting admonition that I'd better hurry and get cleaned up or I'd be late for my first class.

"Crackdust!" I cursed, dashing back into the Hall.

Goldie would have been proud of me, the way I buzzed about our room making myself presentable. Once reasonably attired, I dashed out the door, careening down the steps three at a time. Breathing hard from the exertion, I barely avoided colliding with a group of unsuspecting apprentices as I rounded the corner to the passageway that led to the Healer section of the Harper Hall. I was panting and wheezing like an old smith's bellows as I skidded to a halt at the entrance to the Healer teaching room.

"Overslept, did you?" Oldive chuckled, waving me in. "Well, after all that's happened recently, it's understandable. Everyone, I believe you already know John, star-voyager from the Ancients' home world, Earth. He's going to be spending some time studying with us."

"Him? Study with us?" a young lad scoffed, others around him snickering. "He's too old!"

"Age is never a consideration when the desire to learn is there," Oldive replied, his stern gaze fixing on the guilty. "And you can be sure John has the desire."

"John?" a young teen girl called out, raising her hand.

"That's young Ciri from Benden Hold," Oldive introduced her.

"Yes, miss?" I responded, turning her way.

"Pormal may have been out of line with that crack," she said, frowning at the lad who'd made fun of me, "but you do seem a little old to be here." Others were nodding agreement. "Please understand, I mean no offense."

"None taken," I assured her, returning the smile.

"It's just that we don't understand why you would want to be here with us."

"Because of Laneth," I croaked, tears springing unbidden to my eyes.

"The Istan queen injured during Threadfall?!" someone gasped.

Silently, I nodded.

"As you and Ryeena were so intimately involved with that crisis, John," Oldive remarked, "perhaps the two of you could explain to the rest of the class exactly what transpired."

I was just about to when the piercing wail of the Threadfall alarm cut me off. Voices out in the corridor could be heard as people scurried about securing the Hall against Thread.

Smiling, I asked Ryeena, "Remember the last time we heard the Threadfall alarm?"

"Do I ever!" she chuckled.

"Why don't we start there?"

Grinning broadly, Ryeena did … to many gasps, an occasional squeak of terror, and plenty of ashen faces!

"Jays, now I know you're both crazy!" Pormal exclaimed, a thoroughly disgusted look on his face.

"Oldive?" Silvina was standing in the classroom doorway. "We have cheese, sweet rolls, and juice waiting in the dining room."

"Thank you, my dear," he responded. "To the dining room, everyone. We can continue this delightful discussion there where I'm sure the entire Hall will find this a most intriguing tale!"

Once in the dining room, Ryeena held the attention of the entire Hall in true Harper fashion, retelling the tale of our little Threadfall adventure. One poor girl, Amania I think, fainted dead away.

"A dangerous undertaking, my dear," Sebell remarked as Ryeena finished.

"It was worth it, Master," she responded, reaching over to give me a hug. "How many of us can say we've actually seen dragonriders in the sky fighting Thread?" Her expression turning grim, she added, "I don't even want to think about what would have happened to Darla and Laneth if we hadn't been out there."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the dining hall.

"A most fortunate happenstance," Sebell agreed as Goldie and Bolter popped in, landing on the hearth mantel, their eyes a whirling red, bodies tense with the approach of Thread.

"John?" It was Ciri again, her hand lightly touching my elbow. "Is it true?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized, my mind wandering with the dragons from Fort. "Did you say something?"

"Can you really speak to any dragon?" she inquired, her expression earnest.

Smiling, I asked, "Would you like me to narrate what the Fort dragons are saying right now?"

"Could you?!" she gushed, clearly excited, others drawing nearer.

"Master Sebell?" I asked, turning to him.

With a nod from the Masterharper, the benches and chairs nearby quickly filled while I settled myself on the corner of one of the tables.

"They've just met the leading edge," I began, my eyes unfocusing as I reached my mind out to the Fort Weyr dragons. "Lioth rises. He flames! The first Thread is dust!"

Enthusiastic cheers erupted throughout the room. Not to be outdone, the fire lizards caroled their own approval from the hearth mantel.

"Wait," I murmured, growing uneasy. "Something's wrong. Several of the dragons are reporting wildly shifting winds and Thread falling in patches."

"That will make fighting it unpredictable," Oldive remarked, his brow furrowed with concern, "and very dangerous."

"Feldrath rises … flames … No!" I cried, suddenly on my feet. "The winds diverted the Thread! They've been scored!"

Someone screamed.

"Cold … the cold of _between_ … the Thread has frozen, broken off," I sighed, immensely relieved. "Painful, but only a light score on the rider's shoulder and a small wing perforation. Spirits of my ancestors, I had no idea it was like this."

"Ciri, Pormal, ready cleansing rags, redwort, and numbweed," Oldive ordered. "We'd best be prepared to help riders who can't make it back to Fort."

Pormal grumbled something under his breath but headed off with Ciri to gather the items.

"Another scoring!" I croaked, cringing from the pain I felt through the dragonlink. "Only the dragon's right hind leg. It doesn't go well. Shards! So many already scored, and the Fall's just starting!"

"Will they be able to protect us?" someone wailed.

Just then, the Threadfall alarm sounded a second time, announcing that the leading edge was directly overhead. Perched on the mantel above the hearth, every fire lizard in the Hall had its wings spread, hissing loudly, their tongues flicking in and out as if devouring Thread. In that same instant, an unexpected fist of agony slammed into me.

"NO!" I howled, stumbling backwards, crashing down on top of the table behind me, my hands pressed to my temples.

Many gasped, others screamed, all startled by my sudden outburst.

Ryeena was at my side in an instant. "John, what's wrong?"

"T'ledon," I gasped, my eyes focused elsewhere. "He's been scored!"

Gasps of dismay and worry filled the dining room.

"Serith, this is John. What's wrong?"

 _T'ledon is hurt,_ his dragon wailed, thoughts full of anguish. _I feel him with me, but I don't hear him!_

"Then return to the weyr!" I urged the blue as I struggled to sit up.

 _I can't get a clear image from him!_

If they stayed where they were too long … Gasping, I leaped to my feet.

"Serith, can you take an image from me?" I asked, glancing about as I tried to gauge the size of the dining hall.

 _Yes, you are our friend._

"Quickly!" I shouted, seizing a table and pushing it toward the far wall. "I have to bring T'ledon and Serith here!"

"What?! Here?" a startled apprentice gasped.

 _John, hurry! T'ledon is slipping!_

"Do it!" Oldive boomed, helping me with the table.

"John, you guide Serith," Sebell said, appearing on my opposite side. "Leave this to us."

Nodding my thanks, I sprinted to the end of the room while everyone else scrambled to clear the floor of obstacles.

"Serith, can you see the place I'm sending?" I asked, concentrating on the room before me.

 _Yes, it is very clear._

"Then, come to us, Serith," I urged him. "Hover, then fold your wings as you go _between_. You must be as small as possible when you materialize."

 _We come._

"Hurry!" I cried, waving desperately. "They'll be here any second!"

The last of the tables banged against the wall just as the air in the room seemed to leap aside. T'ledon's blue popped out of _between_ , perfectly centered in the middle of the room, settling with a slight thud to the floor amidst startled squawks and cries of surprise from the fire lizards perched on the hearth mantel.

"T'ledon!" I exclaimed, dashing forward as his unconscious body tumbled from his dragon's back.

I dove, barely managing to throw myself beneath the falling dragonrider in time. But the effort cost me and my head a painful rap against the floor as T'ledon came down on top of me.

"John! Are you alright?" Ryeena asked as several people lifted T'ledon off of me.

"Ohhh," I groaned, struggling to my feet. "I'm gonna have a dragon-sized headache, but I think I'll live. Quickly. Lay him on his stomach on the table there."

"Pormal! Ciri!" Oldive thundered as the Fort rider was carefully positioned on the table. "Where are those supplies?"

"Roll him on his side," I instructed, lifting T'ledon slightly. "We've got to get his jacket off."

While others held him in position, I quickly undid the fastenings of T'ledon's wherhide jacket. Then, in one swift movement, I stripped his jacket off with one hand, his helmet and goggles with the other, tossing the ruined items away. The damage hidden beneath was enough to cause several nearby observers to lose the meal they had so recently eaten. In the same instant, pounding footsteps heralded Pormal's and Ciri's return, their arms heavily laden with all the supplies they could carry.

"Ryeena," I spoke, rolling up my sleeves.

"I'm ready," she answered, grabbing the supplies from the two Healer apprentices and setting them on the table before her.

"Redwort," I ordered.

Ryeena uncorked the bottle and poured part of the contents over my extended hands.

"Watch carefully, apprentices," Oldive said. "You may learn something."

"Rag!" I ordered.

Ryeena slapped one into my outstretched hand, the fabric already soaked with redwort. I started with T'ledon's head, wiping out part of a wound as big as my fist.

"Another," I said, dropping the rag on the floor. Ryeena slapped a second soaked one into my hand.

"Why does he only clean out part of the wound and then change the rag?" Ciri asked.

"Using multiple rags in a wound this size reduces the risk of cross-contamination from one part to another," I answered, my gaze never leaving T'ledon, "thus reducing the chance of infection. Another," I grunted, dropping the dirtied cloth to the floor.

Goldie appeared, leaving her perch on the mantel to land on the table beside me, crooning worriedly as she looked at T'ledon.

"Yes, he's hurt, little friend," I said, continuing to work on the Fort rider, "but I think he'll be alright."

Scrambling up my arm, Goldie took her accustomed perch on my shoulder, tail twined about my neck, humming softly as she watched me work. Finally, the wound was cleaned out to my satisfaction.

"Good," I sighed, inspecting the damage. "It didn't penetrate to the underlying bone. But we'll still need to keep an eye on it for infection. If it spreads into the cranial cavity …" Shuddering at the thought, I dropped the dirty rag to the floor. "Numbweed."

Ryeena extended a small pot out to me. Scooping out a generous amount, I laved it into the wound, making sure the entire exposed area was covered.

"Gauze," I requested, Ryeena handing a piece to me. "How are you doing, Serith?"

 _Well enough,_ he answered, peering over my shoulder. _Will my lifemate be alright?_

"Count on it, my friend," I chuckled, patting the blue's neck.

Skin-to-skin contact sent searing pain like a red-hot poker lancing through my shoulder.

"SSSSSS!" I hissed, sucking in my breath, Goldie squealing in alarm as I recoiled from T'ledon's dragon. "Serith, you're hurt!"

 _I didn't want to worry you,_ he quietly rumbled as others in the room murmured and gasped.

"John, what is it?" Oldive inquired, his expression filled with concern.

"Not sure," I replied, shaking my head. "Serith's in pain."

"Then it's really true?" Menolly gasped. "You can actually feel a dragon's pain just by touching them?"

"Serith, what happened?" I asked, glancing back at his left wing.

 _I hurt it trying to avoid the Thread,_ he whimpered, eyes shading to a worried yellow. _I wasn't fast enough._

 _You tried,_ Goldie hummed as she headstroked her giant cousin.

"Someone help Serith!" I called back over my shoulder as I applied the gauze to T'ledon's head wound. "He's wrenched his left wing near the shoulder joint!"

"Ciri, help me warm up a pot of numbweed," Silvina said, taking her hand. "We'll rub it into the skin. That should help."

"More," I said, taking the next piece of gauze from Ryeena.

When the wound was completely covered with gauze, I secured the dressing in place with tape. Then, as Ryeena gently lifted T'ledon's head, I wrapped a bandage of gauze around it to hold everything securely in place.

 _Ahhhh!_ Serith sighed, rumbling contentedly. _That is much better. Thank you._

Glancing over my shoulder, I could see Silvina working the warmed numbweed into Serith's wing joint while Ciri held the pot.

"Right on the mark, Silvina," I called to her. "Serith gives his thanks."

"He is more than welcome," she replied. "Ciri, why don't you rub some of this in while I hold the pot?"

"Me?!" she gasped as the two changed places.

 _Is the young one afraid of me?_ Serith wondered, his tone a little aggrieved.

Goldie gave a quiet snort, voicing her opinion of the matter.

 _I doubt she's been this close to a dragon before,_ I wordlessly replied, _let alone actually touched one._

 _She's pretty_. _I like her._

"Relax, Ciri," I called back as I laughed. "Serith assures me he likes you."

"Really?" she gasped. "What did he say?"

"He thinks you're pretty."

"Oh!"

I didn't need to see Ciri to know she was probably blushing from head to toe!

"Redwort," I said, holding my hands out again.

The head wound dressed, I turned to the one across T'ledon's shoulder. It proved to be far more serious.

"Damn!" I cursed, throwing the latest rag to the floor. "The Thread's penetrated through the skin to the underlying muscle. We're going to have to cut away the damaged tissue and then close the wound or he could really be in trouble. Scalpel!"

Ryeena didn't respond. When I looked up, she was facing Oldive.

"A knife," she was busy explaining, "small, thin, with a very keen edge."

"I have something in my workshop that may do," Master Jerint replied, dashing off.

"Hurry!" I called after him. "Ryeena, rag."

She slapped one into my hand, but instead of using it to wipe out the already cleaned wound, I unfolded the cloth and draped it over the wound in order to provide some protection. Chirping quietly from my shoulder, Goldie's eyes were an uncertain orange, echoing her worry about T'ledon.

"Serith?"

 _The pain is gone, John,_ he rumbled, his eyes a more contented green color.

"Good," I sighed. "That will help ease your lifemate's discomfort. Well done, Silvina, Ciri. The pain is gone!"

"It was an honor to help," the Benden girl answered, standing shyly beside T'ledon's blue.

At the sound of running footsteps, I looked up just as Jerint skidded to a stop beside us.

"What about this?" he asked, handing me the blade. The handle was small and thin, made of wood. The blade was thin and razor sharp. "We use those for the detailed work on the instruments we make."

"It's perfect, Master Jerint," I said, nodding to him. "Thank you. Ryeena …"

First, she poured redwort over the knife blade as I held it out. Then, while I proceeded to slice away the damaged tissue from T'ledon's shoulder wound, Ryeena busily blotted away the blood my cutting produced. Pormal fainted, the sight of it too much to bear. Ciri stepped in to help, passing fresh gauze to Ryeena so she wouldn't be interrupted. I nodded to the Benden Hold girl, smiling my appreciation for the unexpected help. Goldie added her own chirp of thanks.

"Suture!" I requested.

"Better use this one," Oldive suggested, holding a threaded needle and line out to me. "You may need the heavier cord to close the deeper wound."

Ryeena continued to blot as I stitched first the damaged muscle tissue together, then the overlying skin to close the wound. Anticipating my needs, Ciri held out the numbweed pot. I dipped in, laving a generous amount over the suture site. Gauze was next, taped into place.

The threadscore on T'ledon's arm turned out to be superficial though it certainly looked painful. It was fairly simple to clean the wound, lave on some numbweed, and then cover the wound with bandages.

"Alright, help me sit him up so I can bandage that shoulder and immobilize the arm," I said, clearing all the materials from the table.

Plenty of eager hands lifted T'ledon to a sitting position. Once there, I swiftly applied another gauze bandage to keep the all-important dressings over his shoulder wound in place.

"Here, John, put this on him," Silvina suggested, holding out a clean, white tunic.

"Ah, excellent, Silvina," I said, taking it from her. "Thank you."

It was a simple matter to slip the tunic onto the Fort rider. Once in place, I applied additional dressings to bind his arm to his chest.

"Alright, that should do it," Oldive remarked as we finished. "We'd best get him to bed."

Goldie's worried chirp as she looked at Serith echoed my own feelings.

"No, better if we let him rest here," I argued, gesturing to the blue. "He'll be worried about his dragon the moment he comes to."

"Good point," Oldive agreed, pulling a sleeping fur from a pile that had been brought in.

Placing enough of them on the floor to provide some cushion, the unconscious T'ledon was gently laid with his head resting on one of Serith's forelegs while another, lighter covering was placed over the Fort rider to protect him from any drafts. Once this was done, Serith gently curled up around his rider. It was such a tender scene seeing the two of them like that, I felt a tear come to my eye.

"How goes the Fall, John?" Oldive asked as I wiped my hands off on a clean rag. "Can you tell?"

Goldie's mournful trill answered for me.

"That didn't sound good," Ryeena groaned, drawing the obvious conclusion.

"It's not," I muttered, shaking my head. "More than a dozen wounded riders, half again as many wounded dragons. As bad as the conditions are, they'll be exhausted by the time this Fall is over. Some of them may not be able to make it back to Fort."

"Agreed," Oldive said. "Let them know we'll have healers standing by just in case."

I nodded, passing on the offer at the same time.

Lioth's response was immediate. _All will come, John. Our thanks!_

"Hope you have plenty to go around," I chuckled.

"I'll get the kitchen preparing food and klah," Silvina informed us before bustling off.

"Don't worry, John, we'll be ready," Oldive added, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he, too, hurried off to prepare for the impending arrivals.

"Nice work, Ryeena," I said, giving her a hug.

"You, too," she replied, smiling warmly as she returned the gesture. "But what you did guiding Serith here …"

She gestured at the recumbent dragon watching over his rider. Bolter had joined her, peering out from around her hair. Our two fire lizards both trilled quietly in amazement.

"There was no time to do anything else," I sighed, shrugging. "Another few seconds and we would have lost both dragon and rider."

"Thank you, Ciri," I added, bowing to the Benden girl. "Your help was greatly appreciated."

"Stars, it was amazing watching the two of you work!" she exclaimed, grinning broadly. "You really are quite a team!"

"It wasn't so easy the first time," Ryeena admitted, grimacing a little. "Then, I was confused, angry, and scared out of my wits."

"But you came through in the end," I remarked, giving her another hug, "helping me save Darla and Laneth. Couldn't have done it without you. And you, Ciri, came in just when we needed it. Thank you."

"John, would you teach me what you know?" she asked, an almost desperate look on her young face. "I want to be a healer like you."

Her entreaty caught me completely off-guard. "Like me?!"

"Yes," she said, a silent plea in her eyes as she laid her hand on my arm. "Dragons and their riders risk so much to protect us from Thread. Isn't it right that we repay that debt somehow?"

"Yes, but the path you wish to travel is a long and difficult one," I cautioned her, trying to gauge her sincerity. "It may take many Turns, long hours of seemingly endless study, hard work that would wither most others, and many unpleasant moments along the way. The sacrifices you will have to make are nearly as great as those of the dragons and riders you wish to heal."

"I know it won't be easy," Ciri quietly said, her expression grimly serious, "but I'm not afraid. I want to do this, and after seeing you and Ryeena in action, I'm more convinced than ever that it is the right thing to do. Please, John. Won't you teach me?"

 _She means it,_ Goldie chirped.

Serith rumbled agreement.

"Your desire to repay the dragonriders does you honor, young lady," I said, bowing to her. "I can only pray my teachings will do that desire justice."

"Really? You mean it?" she gushed, bouncing up and down in her excitement.

"Well, Master Oldive asked me to show him what I know," I said, smiling. "No reason I can't show one more while I'm at it."

Squealing with delight, Ciri threw her arms around my neck, hugging me joyfully, sending Goldie squawking off to the hearth mantel, scolding loudly for being displaced from my shoulder.

"A worthwhile ambition, young Ciri," Sebell injected as he appeared beside us. "I wish you well in your journey."

"Thank you, Master," she answered.

"A truly remarkable display, you two," he continued, addressing Ryeena and I. "If what we just witnessed is the merest glimpse of what you two did for Darla and Laneth, then Silvina definitely was not exaggerating the extent of the miracle you performed."

"The miracle, Master Sebell, has yet to occur," I sighed, wringing my hands. "Laneth might still lose her wing."

"Oh, John, don't say that!" Ryeena pleaded, hugging me tightly. "You'll help her fly again. I just know it!"

From atop the hearth mantel, the entire fair of fire lizards bugled their support. Buoyed by such combined enthusiasm, I found myself smiling as I returned Ryeena's hug.

"Oooohh!" T'ledon's quiet moan brought us all instantly to his side.

"Easy, blue rider," I said, a firm hand holding him down. "Everything's alright. You're safe."

"Where?" he groggily asked, slowly looking about.

"You're at the Harper Hall," I told him, smiling reassurance. "See? Serith is right here!"

 _Lifemate!_ the blue jubilantly trilled, love and relief in every syllable.

"Do you remember what happened?" I asked.

"We'd just met the leading edge of the Fall," T'ledon answered, brow furrowed as he struggled to recall. "Damned winds. They had to pick today to do their fickle dance."

"I heard from some of the other dragons that Thread was falling in patches and clumps," I commented.

Nodding, T'ledon muttered, "Worst Fall I've seen in Turns. Three of us were Threaded in the first few minutes."

"Just as you said!" Ciri gasped, staring at me.

Seeing the puzzled look on T'ledon's face, I told him, "I was narrating the Fall for everyone here in the Hall. Do you remember what happened?"

"I was busy cursing the winds as we rose to char a patch of Thread," T'ledon groaned as he struggled to remember. "After that, nothing."

"Blue rider, we were so scared," Ciri spoke up, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "John was busy describing the Fall when he cried out like he'd been Threaded!"

"He must have felt your pain through your dragon," Ryeena added, smiling at me.

"Caught by an unexpected clump is my guess," I surmised. "Serith nearly dislocated his wing trying to avoid it."

 _I'm sorry, lifemate,_ his dragon hummed, nuzzling his face. _I wasn't fast enough!_

"Sounds like it caught us both by surprise, love," T'ledon sighed, scratching Serith's eye ridge. "How bad is it?"

"Very," I grimly replied. "Enough to keep the two of you grounded for several months."

Denial welled up in T'ledon's eyes but I shook my head to enforce my diagnosis.

"You've lost part of your scalp," I told him, a gentle hand on his free arm. "Thread burned into the muscle on the back of your right shoulder, and there's a long scar down your right arm."

The pained look in his eyes when I mentioned his shoulder caught at my heart.

"We removed the damaged tissue and sutured the good flesh together," I explained, trying to reassure him. "As long as you take it easy for a while, there's every reason to believe that you'll regain full use of it, but you must be patient."

"Why didn't we return to the Weyr?" he asked.

"According to Serith, you were unconscious," I replied. "He couldn't get a clear image from you to make the jump _between_ , so I had him bring you here."

Looking around, T'ledon asked, "Where are we?"

"The Harper Hall, blue rider," Sebell replied, leaning closer, " _inside_ the dining room."

"Inside?!" T'ledon gasped, trying to rise but my firm hand kept him down. "Do you have any idea how dangerous a jump like that can be?! The precision and concentration necessary are …"

 _His image was very exact, lifemate,_ Serith rumbled. _I couldn't have done it without John._

"There was no time and no other choice," I explained. "I had to act quickly or lose you both."

"Inside!" the blue rider whispered, wide-eyed with awe. "Serith actually took a fix from you?"

I nodded.

"Inside!" he said again, smiling at last. "And to think all this time you've been hiding that remarkable gift of yours. Dragon healer, you continue to amaze me!"

Just then, the all clear sounded, sending people scrambling to open the shutters and unbar the doors.

"The Fort dragons and riders will be arriving soon, John," Sebell said. "You and Ryeena should be there to meet them."

"Try and get some rest, T'ledon," I said as I stood. "Ciri here will keep an eye on you."

"And lovely ones they are, too," he sighed, grinning broadly.

The Benden Hold girl turned away, the depth of her embarrassment mirrored in the color of her cheeks. There was also just a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Best watch this one, Ciri," I cautioned her, wagging a finger at T'ledon. "He'll steal your heart if you're not careful."

"No chance of that, dragon healer," she firmly declared, glaring at the insolent rider, though she did conspicuously take his hand in hers.

"Silvina should be arriving shortly with food," I said. "I'll check on you later."

"I owe you my life, John," T'ledon said, his expression serious as he nodded to me. "Thank you."

Bowing to the Fort rider, Ryeena and I turned and hurried out of the Hall, Goldie and Bolter winging along ahead of us.

Flame-thrower crews were just finishing their sweep of the Fort Gather meadow when the air above us exploded with dragons, all bugling their distress.

True to his word, Master Oldive was ready. While I used my link with the dragons to assess their conditions and direct them where to land, he and the other healers set to work on each dragon the moment it touched down. Several riders had to be helped from their mounts, but fortunately, none of the injuries proved life threatening.

"Scalpel!" I said, feeling Ryeena slap the instrument into my hand. We were working on a green that had taken a pretty bad score across her left hind leg. Muscle tissue was showing through the wound. The damaged tissue would have to be removed before the wound could be closed.

"How goes it, John?" N'ton inquired as he came up to us.

"She'll be just fine, Weyrleader," I replied, not looking up as I dropped the damaged tissue in a basin, "but she won't be flying Thread for a while until this wound heals. Suture!"

Ryeena slapped it into my hand.

"Where's T'ledon?" N'ton asked, his wherhide riding gear rustling and creaking as he looked about.

"The dining hall," I replied, busily suturing the green's leg wound closed.

The Fort Weyrleader hurried off. Moments later, Lioth's bugle of surprise echoed across the Harper Hall. Within seconds, N'ton was back.

"How in blazes did he get in there?!" the Fort rider exclaimed, his voice echoing with disbelief.

"Scissors," I requested, Ryeena placing them in my hand. "There was no other choice, N'ton. If I'd hesitated, we would've lost T'ledon _and_ Serith!"

I snipped off the remains of the suture and handed the scissors back to Ryeena. She, in turn, handed me the numbweed pot.

"Serith took a fix from you?!" N'ton gasped.

 _He is their friend, lifemate,_ Lioth rumbled as I laved the green's wound with numbweed. _Serith says the image was very precise._

"It would have to be to make a jump like that," N'ton sighed, a grudging respect in his voice.

"There!" I shouted, directing one of the healer apprentices to the outer spar on the green's wing. "Toward the back side of the sail!"

"How did you spot that?" the apprentice asked, his tone incredulous.

"We'll have to find some way to get her home without flying," I said as I stood. "She won't be able to put any strain on that leg until that wound heals over."

"We should be able to rig up a cart to carry her on," N'ton remarked, pondering the problem.

"You take it easy now, Falnath," I told the green, patting the side of her head. "I don't want you tearing that wound open before it has a chance to heal."

 _I will try,_ she rumbled, nuzzling my cheek. _Thank you, John._

There was no time to rest or take a break. The whimpering cries of a wounded brown steered me off to yet another of the waiting dragons.

Several long, mind-numbingly exhausting hours later, all of the wounded – dragons and riders – were finally tended to. Those well enough to fly returned to the Weyr. For the rest, temporary lodgings were arranged within the Harper Hall.

The most talked about of these transitory residents were the ones currently occupying the dining room. It was made even more spectacular when Serith had to vent all the phosphine gas he'd been storing up. The sight of that monstrous gout of flame jetting out of one of the dining hall windows was breathtaking! Of course, when it came time for him to regurgitate all of the digested firestone he'd consumed, the steaming, reeking mess just outside the window mellowed the previous excitement considerably. Fortunately for the residents of the Harper Hall, enough volunteers returned from Fort Weyr so that no one had to soil their hands.

Though the Fort riders repeatedly assured me that I didn't need to, I insisted on helping. After all, I had been responsible for guiding T'ledon's dragon to the Hall in the first place. I thought about using my blaster to simply vaporize the offending pile, but as any healer will tell you, implicit with the duty comes the knowledge that one day you may have to clean up the mess that one of your patients will make. Shards, but it reeked!

Ryeena, and Ciri, too, pitched in. Neither complained, both working just as hard as the Fort riders, proving their commitment to being dragon healers. With all of us working together, the mess was swiftly and efficiently dealt with.

Then it was off to the bathing room for a good and thorough scouring with sweetsand to remove the pervasive stench of firestone. By the time the odor was finally gone, I was convinced I had scrubbed off several layers of skin.

As I was toweling myself off, I paused to reflect on all that had happened since I had arisen that morning. In but a fraction of a single day, I had witnessed many different aspects of what weyr life was like, and my appreciation for all that they endured to protect Pern from Thread grew immensely. It made me more determined than ever to be the best dragon healer I possibly could.

With all the excitement of Threadfall and the subsequent arrival of the wounded Fort dragons and riders, it was well into the afternoon before anyone realized the midday meal had been completely preempted. To help fill the void until the evening meal, Silvina had the kitchen staff prepare a light snack that was served to everyone in the great hall, the dining room being temporarily unavailable. Then, it was off to the courtyard for Ryeena and I to feed our by now ravenous fire lizard friends. Camo was his usual beaming self, surrounded by his pretties, while Menolly was unusually silent and reflective. Several times I caught her looking at me, a curious mix of expressions crossing her face. Even more curious, I found I had little energy to ponder it.

"John, you really should get some rest," she finally commented, a concerned hand on my arm. "You look exhausted."

"I didn't think all this morning's work would be so draining," I sighed, rubbing my eyes to get them to focus.

"It's not just today," she said, laying a gentle hand on my face. "You also had the enormous stress of Darla and Laneth to deal with just yesterday. Your body hasn't fully recovered yet. Go get some sleep. I'll explain to Oldive."

Goldie added her own plea, crooning worriedly as she circled above us. Nodding my thanks, I headed up the steps and through the main hall doors.

As I was passing the dining room doors, I looked in briefly to see how T'ledon and Serith were doing. To my surprise, Ciri was with them. Unseen by those in the room, I grinned in silent delight. Judging by the gentle smiles and shy looks that passed between them, the dragonrider had indeed won Ciri's heart. Tiptoeing so as not to disturb them, I hurried on past the doors.

Once back in my room, I collapsed onto the sweet smelling rushes of my bed. In moments, I was fast asleep; Goldie reassuringly curled up beside me on the pillow.

Sometime later, the sound of harper voices raised in song stirred me from my slumber. The music was light, airy, the words familiar. Yawning mightily as I leaned out the window of my room, it finally registered in my sleep-fogged brain that it was 'Keymon's Song' they were singing.

"Fa olah nu, zu ch'har." I sighed, smiling as my thoughts drifted back to his home on Pun Ch'lar. I miss you, my brother.

Goldie joined me at the window, lighting ever so gently on my shoulder. In moments, she rose on her haunches, lightly gripping my ear to steady herself before adding her delicate crooning to the music adrift on the breeze.

When I started, I don't recall, but I joined my voice to Goldie's, once more singing the song Keymon and his people had taught me so long ago. It was such a joy that I closed my eyes, immersing myself totally in the music. Other delicate voices soon joined us, and once more I was adrift in that dream-like state the singing fire lizards seemed to bring about.

Somewhere during my singing, the sounds from the choir hall stopped. In fact, most of the noise in the Harper Hall ceased, but lost in the thrall of the song, I never even noticed.

When at last the song was over, and I reluctantly opened my eyes, the sight of a courtyard full of people nearly made me jump out of my skin! Spontaneous applause broke out from the crowd below, sending Menolly's fair perched on the window ledge scattering with the explosion of sound. Warmth spread through my cheeks as I waved to the crowd below, an embarrassed grin on my face. It was only then that I noticed the long shadows casting across the Harper Hall. It was nearly time for the evening meal. As if to reinforce that observation, my stomach gave a long, low growl. Waving once more to the still-applauding crowd, I withdrew to get ready.

Using the wash basin in the room to clean my face and wipe the last of the sleep from my eyes, I reached into my wardrobe and pulled out one of my Gather tunics, a pair of dress pants, and a pair of soft dress boots. I wasn't quite sure why I chose those particular items, but it was probably because of that shameful display this morning. I groaned as I pulled on the pants. I couldn't believe the spectacle I had made of myself.

As I was belting the tunic into place, there came a knock at my door.

"Oh, good!" Ryeena said as she entered. "I was hoping you'd put on something nice."

Her own attire was more formal than I would have expected, but I gave it little notice. Bolter winged in through the window, circling a few times before chirping his approval of my attire, then he and Goldie winged out of the room.

"Come on," Ryeena said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the door. "You don't want to miss another meal, do you?"

My stomach answered for me, growling low and long. Both of us laughing, we hurried down the stairs.

"Weyrleader! Weyrwoman!" I exclaimed, surprised to see F'lar and Lessa waiting by the courtyard doors.

"You've certainly been busy your first day here, John," F'lar greeted me as we shook hands.

"N'ton told us about Serith," Lessa spoke, giving my cheek an unexpected kiss. "We had to come and see for ourselves."

"Too bad you weren't here when it happened!" Ryeena spoke up, giving my arm a hug. "It was incredible!"

"Bet that surprised more than a few people!" F'lar said, giving my shoulder a thump. "Given any thought to how you'll get him out?"

"Easier out than in," I replied, shrugging. "Just pop _between_ to someplace outside with plenty of wing room. At any rate, I'm starved. We'd better hurry if we want to find a seat."

I started toward the great hall, but Ryeena pulled me to a stop.

"Not there," she informed me, steering me instead toward the dining hall doors.

The sight that greeted us as we passed through brought me up short. Serith had somehow curled himself up in the back of the room; Goldie and Bolter perched on his neck ridge. The long apprentice tables had been rearranged into two rows directly in front of him, the masters' table off in the corner. Taking my arm, Ryeena led me over to some vacant seats at the end of one of the tables. F'lar and Lessa moved off to join the masters.

"Be seated, everyone," Sebell called out, "all, that is, except you, John."

Clothes rustled as the others settled into their seats while as I remained standing, my heart thudding beneath my ribs.

 _Spirits of my ancestors, what have I done now?_ I silently wondered.

"When Weyrleader F'lar and Weyrwoman Lessa first recommended you to us, John," Sebell spoke, standing so all could hear him, "we were quite impressed. Silvina, who'd had a chance to examine your work on Darla and Laneth, even recommended that we start you out at the journeyman level."

That obviously hadn't been public knowledge, sending whispers of surprise and envy rippling through the apprentices and journeymen alike.

"She also mentioned your surprise at her suggestion," he continued, eyeing me closely, "that you had expected to start your tutelage here as a mere apprentice. Is that true?"

"Yes, sir," I answered, swallowing once.

"As the masters of this Hall," he said, gesturing to the others seated at the table around him, "it is our duty and responsibility to gauge the skills and abilities of all who apply to study here. You have some very strong recommendations from some very noteworthy people. However, …"

"Masterharper, please," I begged, suddenly welling despair sending bile to my mouth. "For the sake of Darla and Laneth, I beg you, do not do this."

"If our decision was to deny you the knowledge you seek," he continued, his expression grim, "to send you away from this hallowed Hall …"

Gasps and whispers of disbelief swept the tables. Head hung despondently, my stomach roiling with despair, a sob catching in my throat, I replied, "Then I will go."

Murmurs filled the air as I stood there, unmoving, praying to my revered ancestors that they wouldn't send me away. Goldie's quiet trill of worry filtered up from the back of the room, memories of my disheveled appearance this morning coming back to haunt me.

"Please sit down, John," Sebell quietly instructed me.

I did, my knees weak with the despair that threatened to overwhelm me. How could I have been so careless, thoughtlessly jeopardizing my one chance to correct the lack that had nearly killed Laneth? Ryeena's hand found mine, and she squeezed it reassuringly. The smile she gave me and her nod of encouragement did a lot to ease my worry.

"Many Turns ago, my predecessor, Masterharper Robinton, had the pleasant task of overseeing the appointment of a very special young lady to the rank of journeywoman," Sebell spoke, addressing the entire room. "Now a masterharper, we all know her as Menolly, formerly of Half-Circle Sea Hold, the one who wrote 'The Fire Lizards Song'."

"To be a harper or healer requires many talents," he continued, searching the faces at the long tables. "Not all of these skills need be learned within these walls. Indeed, as Master Robinton pointed out back then, many of our most valuable lessons are more forcefully learned at some distance from this hallowed Hall."

 _Ancestors, no,_ I silently wept, tears coming to my eyes, _they are sending me away!_

"However, when the fundamentals of either craft have been well and truly learned, Master Robinton insisted, as do I, that we hold no one back from the rank they are entitled to by knowledge and ability, and, as in Menolly's case, by rare talent. Gentlemen, if you would please …"

The room fell silent. Gasps rippled across the tables as Master Oldive and T'ledon made their way forward from where they had been waiting by the recumbent Serith. Distracted by despair, I failed to comprehend what was happening. When T'ledon and Master Oldive stopped on either side of me, it only served to confuse me further. Ciri's cry of joy across from me did little to dispel my growing bewilderment. And, right over my head, a swirling cloud of fire lizards filled the air with delirious keening!

"Oh, John!" Ryeena exclaimed, throwing her arms about my neck, hugging me tightly.

"Ryeena, what's going on?" I stammered, verging on panic.

"Don't you see?" she asked, tears of joy pouring down her face. "Only a master can escort the newest of their rank to the Masters' table."

"I don't understand," I said, shaking my head in confusion.

"You've been made a masterhealer!"

"I'VE WHAT?!"

The news was so startling, I tumbled backwards off the bench, Serith's bugle of concern startling everyone.

"Easy, love," T'ledon called out to his dragon. "He's alright! Better get your medicines ready, Oldive," the blue rider laughed as he and the Masterhealer of Pern helped me to my shaky feet. "He looks ready to expire!"

The dining room resounded with cheers and applause, the Hall's fire lizards caroling joyously as the two men led me over to where the other Masters and the Benden Weyrleaders were waiting.

"I … I don't understand," I stammered, tears trickling down my cheeks as Goldie gently backwinged to my shoulder. "I've barely been here a day …"

"And demonstrated to all in this Hall the magnitude and precision of your skills," Sebell said, a strong, reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Gently twining her tail about my neck, Goldie gave a nod and an authoritative chirp signaling her agreement with the Masterharper.

"Yes, there is still much you need to learn," Sebell continued. "That is why this hallowed Hall exists … to enhance learning and broaden knowledge. But more important than what we can teach you is what you can teach us. Why, the knowledge and experience you possess is staggering! Look at all you've accomplished since you first set out to find Pern. Please, John, won't you share that knowledge with us?"

I glanced back at Ciri. The silent plea in her eyes was inescapable.

"I will share all I know, Masterharper, and gladly," I wept, Goldie's delighted warbling echoing my joy.

"Ryeena, would you come here, child?" Sebell asked, beckoning to her.

My young friend leaped out of her seat, running to join me at my side.

"Would you do the honors?" Sebell asked, handing a thin, hinged case to her.

Her face lit up, eyes bulging as she gently took the case from him. Slowly, she opened it, holding it so that I could see its contents.

"A masterhealer's pin," she whispered, gently fingering the intricate gold metalwork and the inlaid jewels fashioned in the shape of the healer's emblem.

Lifting it gently from the case, she turned to me. I knelt before her, my own tears falling as she ever so carefully pinned it to my tunic. Then, with a sob of joy, she threw her arms about my neck once more, hugging me tightly even as Goldie squawked about her tail being crushed.

"Congratulations, Masterhealer," Ryeena whispered.

I returned her hug, standing as I did so that I lifted her completely off her feet.

"Serith wasn't the only reason you came here, was it?" I asked Lessa as I set Ryeena back on her feet, the applause behind us nearly drowning out my question.

"We also spoke with N'ton and the other Fort riders, John," she replied, squeezing my hand reassuringly as she planted yet another kiss on my cheek. "And I thought what you showed us at Moreta's Hold was amazing!"

"Sebell sent word to us of his plans," F'lar added, giving my shoulder a thump, "but not before everyone was sure you were asleep."

"Asleep?" I wondered and then gasped, the reason for my afternoon weariness suddenly becoming clear. "You put something in my food?!"

"Don't be angry, John," Silvina begged, giving my arm a hug. "With you able to hear any dragon, there was no other way we could keep it all a secret from you!"

I burst out laughing, everyone else in the room joining me. She was right! How could I be angry with her for that?

"We had hoped to celebrate this occasion by singing 'Keymon's Song' for you, John," explained Master Shonagar, a hint of chagrin in his voice, "but your unsolicited recital …" and I flinched at his emphasis, "this afternoon proved beyond doubt that you are still the only master of that fluid, hypnotic melody. However do you do it?"

"Truly, Master Shonagar, I wish I knew," I said.

"There is no need for formalities, John," he assured me, one massive hand gripping my shoulder ever so gently. "You have earned the rank. Titles between us are not required."

"You are wrong, Master," I disagreed, returning the gesture. "No one in this Hall can match your gift of voice. So long as you can help me improve my own, you shall always be Master to me."

"Then, perhaps," he said, smiling broadly, "as one master to another, we might work together to learn exactly what it is about you that makes a difference with 'Keymon's Song.'"

"Agreed!" I declared, offering my hand to him. He took it, pumping it in the traditional courtesy.

"And now, Master Shonagar, Master Menolly," I said, bowing to each, "would you do me the honor of joining me in a rendition of 'Keymon's Song' the likes of which this hallowed Hall has never heard before?"

Grinning broadly, Shonagar replied, "Gladly!"

"It's been far too long!" Menolly chimed in. "And this time, I know the words!"

As we all adjourned to the Hall courtyard, I couldn't help laughing, recalling how frustrated she had been the first time I'd sung the song.

This latest rendition of 'Keymon's Song' was all I had hoped it would be and more. Master Shonagar was magnificent. And, true to her assertion, Menolly did indeed know the words of the song, although I did catch a slight mispronunciation now and then.

Just as Ruth had done that night at Ruatha and the dragons at the subsequent Gather, every dragon present at the Harper Hall and all the fire lizards joined us in the song. Even in the dream-like state the song inspired, the deeper notes the dragons produced resonated through every bone in your body, raising the experience to a new, breathtaking level. There was such a collective sigh at the end I was afraid everyone was going to faint!

"My word!" Shonagar gasped, shaking himself to break the thrall of the song.

"By the First Egg!" Menolly stammered, gawking at the dragons perched on the rim of the fire heights.

 _Thank you, my friends,_ I silently sent as I bowed to the dragons. _That was wonderful!_

 _It is a beautiful song,_ Serith hummed, his head poking out the dining hall window.

 _As beautiful as the little ones said,_ Ramoth added, her eyes a very pleased blue-green color.

"Master?"

Turning at the sound of her voice, I found Ryeena standing a short, respectful distance away.

"Let's get a few things straight, apprentice," I said, leaning closer to her. "Do you remember that day I told you and Silvina that I didn't know who bespoke Serith?"

She nodded.

"I lied," I confessed, averting my eyes from her. "It made me sick to my stomach that I had done such a thing. Yet you still called me friend. I swore then and there that I would never do anything to jeopardize our friendship. I don't want the difference in our ranks to ever come between us. First and forever, Ryeena, you and I are friends."

"Weyrwoman Lessa called us a team," I continued, "each trusting in the abilities of the other. And yet, I failed you as a friend by not trusting you with the secret that I could speak to dragons."

"You did it to protect me," Ryeena quietly said. "I finally understood why once you told us about your Academy friend."

"Yes," I sighed, a weak smile on my face, "but I will always be haunted by the hurt I saw in your eyes when you found out. It was almost more than I could bear. And yet, you still helped me when I needed you most. It takes both of us to do the work we do, Ryeena. I depend on you."

Laying my hand gently against her cheek, my lips trembling with emotion, I said, "How I was ever blessed with a friend like you, I will never know. But know this, young lady. If I ever hear you calling me 'Master' again, I will put you across my knee and paddle your pretty backside until you can't sit down for a sevenday! Is that understood?"

Sobs and giggles mingling together, Ryeena threw her arms about my neck, hugging me tightly in her joy.

The next day, the entire population of the Harper Hall and Fort Hold turned out to witness the spectacle. Once T'ledon and I had reached the fire heights, he called his dragon. Loud cheering rose from the crowd seconds later as Serith emerged from _between_ a dragonlength above the rim of the fire heights.

Because his arm was still immobilized, it was agreed that I would accompany T'ledon on Serith to keep him steady until we reached Fort Weyr. From there, another rider would bring me back.

"Take us home, Serith," T'ledon said, slapping his dragon on the neck.

With a short run, the blue dropped off the lip of the fire heights to gain wing room. He swooped down over the crowd, their cheers of encouragement audible even over the rush of air. Then, his wings beating strongly, Serith bore us swiftly aloft, heading northwest over the hills back to Fort Weyr.

Almost at once, Ruth appeared alongside us, Jaxom and Sharra astride the white dragon. Behind them, a full fighting wing of Fort Weyr dragons appeared, spreading out quickly on either side of us.

 _It is an escort for you, master healer,_ Ruth informed me, somehow picking up my confusion. _Jaxom and Sharra offer their congratulations._

I waved my thanks as I gazed around at all the dragons in flight. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen!

A short time later, as we passed over the lip of the Fort Weyr crater, the dragons reformed in front of us, leading the way down. In perfect formation, we backwinged to a graceful landing. I got my next surprise as I was helping T'ledon dismount.

"Ryeena!" I exclaimed, spotting her beside N'ton as the two came out to greet us.

"Told you he'd be surprised!" she said to the Fort Weyrleader.

"How did you …" I stammered, gesturing in the direction of the Harper Hall. "We just … What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing much," Ryeena replied, a mischievous grin on her face.

That 'nothing much' turned out to be a celebration in my honor by everyone at Fort Weyr to toast my new station and to thank me for what I'd done for their dragons and riders. It was a wonderful get-together, the dragons showing off their flying skills.

The weyrlings were all eager to show off their new lifemates. I couldn't blame them for their energy or nervousness. They loved their dragons and were proud to show them off.

And then, the unthinkable happened. So excited was one new bronze and his rider that the dragon momentarily forgot himself … and soiled the floor in full view of everyone.

"Masterhealer, I … I'm so sorry," the weyrling apologized, his expression at once horrified and stricken. "I don't know what got into …"

"Relax, A'ren," I said, giving his shoulder a gentle clout. "I know Narmeth didn't mean it. He's just as excited as his rider."

And then, to everyone's amazement, I walked over to the nearest supply closet and retrieved the necessary bucket and shovel.

"Narmeth, could you scoot back a little?" I asked, setting the bucket to one side.

 _I'm sorry, John,_ A'ren's bronze apologized as he moved, his eyes an embarrassed shade of orange.

 _Aaah, don't give it another thought, my friend,_ I told him.

"Master, you don't need to do that," A'ren spoke, trying to take the shovel from me.

"Nonsense," I argued, scooping up the first shovelful. "He made the mess because of me. Only fair that I help clean it up."

A'ren stared at me. I could just picture the thoughts going through his mind. A masterhealer helping him with his dragon?

"Besides, I promised Weyrleader N'ton that I'd spend some time among you weyrlings learning how to care for dragons," I went on, smiling as I gave him a wink. "Surely, this is part of what every new rider learns. You wouldn't want it said that a mere weyrling knows more about caring for a dragon than a masterhealer now, would you?"

"No, Master, of course not!" he replied, a grin lighting up his face.

"Then grab another shovel and give me a hand," I told him, depositing another load in the bucket.

Three days. It had been three days since my secret had become known: three days of heart-stopping terror and gut-wrenching desperation, of dazzling miracles and eternal hope. If these past days were any indication of what the rest of my life on Pern would be like, I was certain it would never be dull!


	20. Chapter 20- On Search At The Harper Hall

Chapter 20

On Search at The Harper Hall

Destinies change

Born on our dreams

Silent they came

We hear only screams

 _COME HOME TO US!_

"NO!" I howled, jerking upright in bed.

Heart racing like the wind, I sat there, desperately gulping in massive lungfuls of air. It took several moments before I realized that I was still in my room… shaking, sweating, but still there.

Spirits of my ancestors, the dream had seemed so real! The command, for that's the only thing it could have been, had rolled through my head like thunder. Dragons and riders, carrying me away with them … carrying me … home! But that's where I was. Wasn't I?

 _What's wrong?_ Goldie sleepily complained, her eyes barely unlidding as she looked at me.

"Nothing, little one!" I whispered, stroking her neck ridge. "Go back to sleep."

With a quiet sigh, she did just that.

My heart, however, was still racing far too quickly for me to join her. Nothing, huh? Hardly!

 _Spirits of my ancestors, what could it mean?_ I silently wondered, staring out the open window at the star-filled sky beyond.

Dragons and their riders, coming to take me away with them. Impression? No, on that score Lessa was right. The best dragon healer _was_ one who was dragonless. But what else could it mean?

Lost in contemplation, I nearly suffered a heart attack when the door to my room creaked open. Reaching for the nightstand, I flicked open the shield of the glow lamp.

"Ryeena?" I gasped, throwing back the sleeping fur as she stumbled into the room, padding softly on bare feet.

Her face was as white as a sheet, her entire body trembling, her eyes great pools of terror as I came up to her.

"Oh, John, it was awful!" she whispered, hugging me fiercely as she buried her head against my chest.

"What happened?" I asked, lightly stroking her hair to calm her.

"A nightmare," she hissed, clutching me tightly. "Dragons and their riders were trying to take me away from here!"

"Ancestors preserve us!" I gasped, nearly crushing my young friend in surprise.

"What?" Ryeena wondered, sniffling back tears as she looked up at me.

Wordlessly, I led my young friend over to the sofa by the window so we'd both have a place to sit. "Ryeena, I just had a dream exactly like yours!"

"What?!" she exclaimed, her hands leaping to cover her mouth, her eyes wide with fright. "But how? John, what does it mean?"

"I wish I knew," I said, holding her tightly, rocking gently. "But try not to worry. Whatever it means, we'll face it together!"

We sat and rocked, neither of us saying a thing. In time, Ryeena's trembling gradually faded. Not long after, we both fell asleep, still clinging to each other.

 _It is time to come home,_ the gold had said. _Come home to us!_

The next morning, it was Goldie and Bolter, not the sun, who woke us, chittering incessantly from their perch on the headboard of my bed.

"What's with them?" Ryeena complained, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Wish I knew!" I yawned, mystified by the behavior of our tiny friends. Waving a limp hand at the open window, I muttered, "Why don't you go sun yourselves on the roof? You like doing that."

It was one of their favorite pastimes, but Goldie and Bolter ignored the suggestion. Instead, they repeatedly tried to drag us off the sofa, grabbing hold of any part of us that they could sink their talons into.

Goldie had been quiet all night. Bolter hadn't even joined Ryeena when she'd come to me following her nightmare. Why would they be so agitated now?

For the past three days, Ryeena and I and several of the apprentices had been laboring over open pits preparing numbweed. Muscles I didn't know I possessed kept introducing themselves with twinges and aches. I'd barely made it to my bed before collapsing onto the sweet smelling rushes. I'm sure Ryeena felt the same way. Today was a restday, and that's exactly what I intended to do!

But Goldie and Bolter kept after us, stubbornly trying to get us to our feet. They weren't hungry, or we'd have felt their hunger pangs. And no Thread was due to fall today. So what were they on about?

Meanwhile, Goldie was growing increasingly frustrated with my inactivity. It was obvious I wasn't going to stir without some special prodding. So she backwinged to my shoulder, got up next to my head … and snorted as hard as she could right in my ear!

"Hey!" I shouted, leaping to my feet. "Goldie!"

She hovered in front of me, her eyes whirling red, scolding me for being so lazy.

"Alright, alright! I'm up!" I yawned, stretching to relieve some minor stiffness.

As I did, she seized my outstretched arm, trying to pull me toward the door. I stared at her, bewildered by her eccentric behavior.

Ryeena wasn't having any better luck. Bolter had his talons tangled in her hair, trying to get her to rise.

Coaxing Goldie into landing on my arm, I held her up before me, stroking her head knobs. "What is it, pet? What's got you so excited?"

Goldie nuzzled my hand. As she did, images of Benden Weyr and dragons in the hall courtyard flooded my mind.

"Benden dragons … here?"

"What?!" Ryeena gasped, managing to dislodge Bolter from her hair.

Gathering the sleeping fur around me, I hurried to the window, Ryeena joining me there. But when we looked out, the courtyard was empty.

"I don't understand."

Goldie nuzzled my cheek. Again, the same images.

"But there's no one there," I told her, pointing out the window.

Goldie trilled a long sigh, annoyed by my lack of understanding.

"Bolter's showing me the same thing," Ryeena informed me, stroking her friend. "Why would they show us something that's not there?"

I turned back to the window. If no dragons were there now, … "They must be coming later!"

With a triumphant trill, Goldie and Bolter took wing, flitting dizzily about the room.

"Why would Benden riders be coming here?" Ryeena wondered, looking out the window at the vacant court beyond.

As one, we both gasped, turning to stare at each other.

"Oh, John!" Ryeena sobbed, hugging me tightly.

"It could mean anything, Ryeena," I said, lifting her chin so she'd look at me. "We mustn't jump to any hasty conclusions."

"I know," she sniffled, wiping her cheeks. "But you and I are dragon healers. And Weyrwoman Lessa said the best kind are those who remain dragonless. Why would they want to take us back with them?"

"We don't know yet why they're coming," I said, hugging her closely. "When they come, if they come, we can ask them."

Whatever mysteries this morning held would reveal themselves soon enough. Ryeena returned to her room to get ready, Bolter making sure she didn't dally, while I hurried down to the bathing room to get cleaned up.

Goldie proved to be a ruthless taskmaster, harrying my steps at every turn. I managed to steal a few extra minutes in the warmth of the bathing trough, for which my stiff and aching muscles were grateful, but only by holding my breath and completely submerging. Each time I surfaced, Goldie was there, exhorting me to hurry along, at one point grabbing my hair as she tried to pull me out.

Back in my room, I slipped into a clean pair of trousers and a tunic belted neatly into place. To these, I added a pair of soft dress boots and a beautifully stitched leather jerkin that proudly displayed my masterhealer's pin. A thorough rub to dry my hair, then I combed the whole mess back into place.

"Well, what do you think?" I asked, looking myself over in the mirror.

 _It's about time,_ Goldie snorted.

Just then, the tocsin sounded. Seconds later, the courtyard filled with a cacophony of hurried footsteps and anxious voices.

"We'd best hurry if we want to get something to eat."

Leaping to my shoulder, Goldie curled her tail gently around my neck, then we hurried from the room. Ryeena opened her door the moment I knocked, and together, we hurried downstairs.

An air of excitement filled the Harper Hall as we joined the milling throngs. The hushed conversations, the furtive glances, all hinted at something momentous happening today. While bathing, I'd noticed others up early, too, their excited whispers echoing through the halls. It had something to do with the dream and our fire lizards' warning, but I just couldn't make the connection.

"John!" Ryeena hissed, a hand on my arm as she stared at those filing into the dining hall.

"I see it."

Everyone was in their Gather finery, yet none were scheduled for today.

"What's going on?" Ryeena wondered.

"You mean you two haven't heard?" one of the apprentices asked as he came over. "The entire Hall is talking about it!"

"About what?" Ryeena inquired.

"Ramoth's latest clutch is hardening on the sands of the Hatching Ground," the boy explained, barely containing his excitement. "Benden riders are coming to the Hall after breakfast … on Search!"

"What?! Here?!" Ryeena exclaimed, stunned.

"Yep! They'll be looking for candidates to put to the eggs!"

"So, that's what you were trying to tell me," I said, stroking Goldie's neck ridges. "No wonder you were so excited!"

"Better hurry and get something to eat!" the boy called out, dashing for the dining hall entrance. "May not get a chance to later!"

"Bet he's hoping to be one of those chosen," I chuckled, nuzzling Goldie's tiny head. "Think he'll make it, Ryeena?"

She didn't answer, not at first. A curiously pained expression on her face, she finally whimpered, "Oh, John, the dream!"

"Come on," I told her, taking her arm in mine. "We'd better hurry inside."

Sending our little friends to sun on the roof, we entered the dining hall. As a concession to my position and because of the work we did together, Ryeena and I usually sat at one of the apprentice tables.

As the food trays were brought around, I had to prod Ryeena several times to take what she wanted then pass the trays along. And what she did take was nowhere near her usual amount. She was worried, even frightened, and it didn't take a genius to figure out by what.

"It's the Benden riders, isn't it?" I asked, leaning across the table.

Gulping nervously, Ryeena looked away, nodding slowly.

"Wanna talk about it?" I inquired, stuffing a piece of meat into my mouth.

Glancing about, she shook her head, averting her gaze.

"Too many ears, huh?" I whispered, smiling. "Eat something for me, Ryeena. Then, we'll go outside and talk."

"We can't just leave the table!" she hissed, finding her voice as she nervously glanced about the hall.

"That's my worry," I told her, tapping her plate with my knife. "Eat."

Uncertain about what I was planning, Ryeena slowly began to eat, her eyes constantly watching me.

She was right, of course. An ordinary apprentice leaving the table during a meal would be an unheard of breach of discipline and protocol. But Ryeena was no ordinary apprentice, and I was a masterhealer.

Meanwhile, talk about the dining hall was hushed and excited. I overheard several snippets from the other apprentices at our table, outlandish claims and spirited wagers about who would be taken on Search.

"Hah! How could they not take me?" Tindar boasted, puffing up his chest. "Look how hard I've been working here!"

"They don't pick 'em by how much work they do, Tin," Brodly retorted, tapping his forehead. "They pick 'em for how smart they are!"

"You can speak to dragons, John," Jerritt addressed me from across the table. "Who do you think they'll take on Search?"

Silence fell across the table as all eyes turned our way. I liked Jerritt. So did Ryeena. He was friendly, outgoing, and hardworking; always willing to help when it was needed. He was fun to be around. If anyone stood a chance of being Searched, my bet was on him.

"What about you, Jerritt? Don't you want to Impress a dragon?"

"Shells, John, you know I do," he muttered, eyes downcast. "But I'm just the foster son of a small cot holder from Keroon. What chance do I have of being chosen?"

"Same as anyone else," I replied with an indifferent shrug. "Although, you may have a better chance than most."

"What do you mean?" he wondered, a confused look on his face.

"Have you forgotten? Lady Moreta, Fort's Weyrwoman and gold Orlith's rider, came from Keroon."

Jerritt gasped, staring at me as if he'd never considered that possibility before.

"Dragons don't recognize effort or intelligence or even birthright. No one knows why they choose one rider over another." Then, with a wink and a smile, I added, "But, I'll put in a good word for you if I get the chance."

Jerritt's eyes lit up, sparkling with hope, even as others at the table sputtered and snickered.

"If they take anyone, John, it ought to be you and Ryeena," he argued, glaring at his tablemates. "You two can already speak to dragons, unlike the rest of us. I bet you'd both make great dragonriders!"

Quiet sniffling reached our ears. Turning, we found Ryeena weeping over her food.

"What's wrong?" Jerritt asked, a concerned hand on her shoulder. Turning to me, he asked, "What did I say?"

"Stay with her, Jerritt," I told him, rising. "I'll be right back."

"John, no!" pleaded Ryeena, grabbing for my hand, but it was too late. I was already heading up the aisle to the Masters' table.

"Please excuse the interruption, Master Oldive," I spoke as I approached, "but may I have a word with you?"

"It had better be important," Morshal grumbled in his typically testy fashion.

"Well, masterhealer?" Domick asked, emphasizing my title as he fixed a quelling stare on Morshal.

"It's Ryeena," I explained, ignoring Morshal. "She's troubled by the impending visit of the Benden riders but won't talk about it here with everyone about. Would it be alright if we went outside for a few minutes?"

"Typical. Just like a girl," Morshal snorted, stabbing a piece of meat with his knife. "Put them under a little pressure, and they go to pieces."

Eyes narrowed to mere slits, I turned to face Morshal.

"First, it was Menolly with her fire lizards presuming to be a harper," he peevishly complained. "Now this one presumes to be a dragon healer!"

"Enough, Morshal!" Sebell commanded, Kimi, his fire lizard hissing from his shoulder. "John may be the newest master in this Hall, but he is displaying far better manners than you. Ryeena is troubled, and as her friend, he is understandably concerned."

Attuned to my emotions, Goldie came streaking in from outside, Bolter close behind. Ryeena's little friend dropped to the table in front of her, chirruping worriedly as he tried to comfort his friend while Goldie continued on, several apprentices ducking out of her way. She backwinged to my shoulder then turned to face Morshal, hissing menacingly, her talons unsheathed.

"As I recall, Morshal," I said, stroking Goldie's neck ridge to calm her, even as I fought to keep my own anger under control, "in spite of her _then_ nine fire lizards, Menolly made journeywoman only a sevenday after she arrived here and has done credit to her craft and Hall ever since."

Morshal merely grunted, spearing another piece of meat.

"Since her own arrival here, Ryeena, though a mere apprentice, has brought nothing but honor to her craft and Hall."

"Hear, hear!" Oldive seconded my assessment.

"So, with all due respect to your rank and position, Master Morshal …" Drawling out his title as I leaned across the table, in a voice barely above a whisper, I hissed, "Go bend a tail!"

The master of musical theory nearly choked on the piece of meat he'd been eating, coughing and spluttering, his eyes bulging with indignation. Goldie snarled from my shoulder, a look on her small face daring Morshal to try something. Domick, sitting beside him, wore a slight quirk of a smile. But there was no such look of amusement from Sebell as I turned to face him.

"You may be the newest master in this Hall, John," he spoke sternly, looking straight at me, "but if you wish to remain so, you will kindly treat the other Masters with the proper respect!"

"Have no fear on that account, Masterharper," I said, bowing in turn to him, Domick, and Oldive, "for I have nothing but the highest respect … for those who have earned it. But Master or no," and I emphasized my words with a sharp cutting motion of my hands, "I will not stand by while my friend is so basely abused!"

Goldie trilled her accord from my shoulder, her eyes dizzily awhirl in a brilliant crimson shade.

"Ryeena is facing a critical decision in her young life," I continued, addressing the Masters. "Which of life's many paths to choose? Which dreams must be sacrificed so that one may be followed? Two destinies lie before her like a fork in the road, each calling out with equal strength and allure.

Like so many others, Ryeena longs to Impress a dragon, one of those wondrous creatures that defend Pern against Thread. There is no question in my mind that she fully understands the risks involved and the responsibilities that go along with being a dragonrider.

But she also longs to be a dragon healer. She has a talent for the healing arts and a special gift that aids her in the work. She has already proven her abilities and her courage when dealing with the injured, both human and dragon."

"Ryeena has found happiness in her work, Masters," I said, looking at each in turn. "Today, she may be asked to give that up and choose another path. She is frightened and confused. All I am asking is a few minutes alone with my friend to see if I can help her make a choice."

"Sounds like a harper, doesn't he, Sebell?"

Whirling at the unexpected voice behind me, I came face to face with Groghe, Lord Holder of Fort Hold; Merga, his queen fire lizard, astride his massive forearm.

"A very good morning to you, Lord Groghe," I spoke, bowing to him. "And to you, lovely Merga."

Goldie and Merga exchanged a few pleasant chirps then settled themselves.

Every eye in the hall was on us; Ryeena's, too, filled with worry and fear. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop clear out in the courtyard.

"Been meaning to speak with you, John," Lord Groghe said, stroking Merga's head knobs. "Heard you can talk to dragons. That true?"

"Yes, sir."

"Humph. Thought only Lessa and Brekke could," he rumbled, combing his massive fingers through his hair. "And you not being Impressed. Humph." He regarded me a long moment, then, nodding toward our fire lizards, asked, "Can you speak to them, too?"

"Yes, sir," I admitted, stroking Goldie's neck ridge, "though they communicate more with images and feelings than words. Still, I've only had mine a short time while you have had Merga far longer. I'm certain you have far greater experience with it than I. Is there something else I can help you with?"

"Not sure," he replied. "Merga here took a fit this morning. Pulled the sleeping fur off me, she did. Wouldn't leave me be till I got dressed. Then, she all but drags me over here. The whole time kept getting pictures of dragons. Can't make sense of it. Humph!"

"Masterharper?" I inquired, turning to Sebell.

"Lord Groghe seeks your counsel, dragon healer," he responded, his tone neutral. "Answer him."

Sensing some sort of test in his reply, I took a deep breath then turned back to the Fort Lord Holder.

"What you have, my lord, is a puzzle with a piece missing," I began. "Were you informed that Benden riders were coming to the Harper Hall this morning … on Search?"

"Benden riders … on Search? Here?!" Groghe spoke, clearly surprised, glancing over at the Masters table for confirmation.

"All too true, my lord," Sebell replied, nodding. "We received the advisement from Benden late yesterday afternoon."

"Several of us who have fire lizards experienced events very similar to your own," I added. "Our little friends were trying to warn us about the pending visit but seemed unable to convey why."

"Humph. Makes sense," Lord Groghe said. "Certainly explains your excitement this morning, eh, pet?"

Merga chirruped contentedly as Lord Groghe stroked her head with one massive finger.

"Never heard of anyone being taken on Search from the Harper Hall before."

"Nor have we," replied Sebell, answering Groghe's unspoken question. "This will be the first time we have been so honored."

"Any likely candidates?" Groghe inquired, smiling, with a sly wink to Sebell.

"Certainly many willing ones," Sebell conceded amidst the nervous giggling of the apprentices. Sweeping the tables with a stern glance, he added, "Whether any prove worthy remains to be seen."

"Lord Groghe, …" I addressed him, speaking into the momentary lull. "Given what we all seemed to have experienced this morning, Merga probably dragged you out of the Hold without so much as a 'By your leave, …'"

"True enough," he acknowledged.

"Then, my lord, would you honor the Harper Hall this morning and join us for breakfast?" I asked, indicating the Masters table.

"Delighted!" he replied, pulling out a chair. "Bring your friend and join us. Want to meet whoever it is you so staunchly defended. Must be someone special."

"She is, indeed, my lord," I said, nodding to him. "But, alas, I must turn down your gracious invitation."

"Why?" he asked, more surprised than angry, ripples of gasps spreading through the dining room.

"At my request and out of deference to those students I am still studying with," I explained, indicating the table where Ryeena and our friends sat, "I sit with the apprentices."

"An unusual request for a masterhealer," Groghe commented, eyeing me closely.

"It was fear and jealousy that killed my Academy friend, my lord," I said, turning to him. "I cannot return the gifts I have been given nor pass them on to another. But what I can do is make myself accessible to those who are curious, who want to talk to me and ask questions. By doing so, maybe I can help ease any fears and soothe any jealousies that might arise."

"Sensible," Groghe commented.

"It would also not be fair to the others if I shared with you a privilege that would be denied them." Bowing, I said, "Please enjoy your morning meal, my lord."

As I turned to go, I heard, "Just a moment."

As I turned back, Lord Groghe was addressing Sebell.

"Told you. Speaks just like a harper." Then, to me, he said, "Well, then, lad, since you won't join us, maybe your tablemates won't mind if I joined you!" Pushing his chair back, he rose. "If you'll excuse me, Sebell, gentlemen."

"Of course," the Masterharper replied, rising along with the other masters as the Fort Lord Holder pushed his chair in.

"Still want to meet this friend of yours, John," Lord Groghe told me as he came over. Then, nodding in the direction of the other apprentices, he asked, "Sure they won't mind?"

"A few I'm sure will be nervous, my lord," I replied, smiling, "but if I deprived them of your company, I am certain I would never hear the end of it!"

"Well said, lad, well said!" he laughed, thumping me on the shoulder.

"This way, sir," I said, pointing down the aisle.

"John?"

"Master?" I responded, turning to Oldive.

"When you and Ryeena have eaten enough, you may be excused from the table."

He was smiling, obviously pleased with my performance.

"Thank you, Master," I said, bowing to him. "This way, my lord."

Buoyed by this unexpected turn of events, I marched smartly back to our table, Lord Groghe close behind. The others rose quickly, pushing the benches back to make room for our much-honored guest.

"Sit! Sit!" he ordered, waving as we arrived. "No standing on ceremony today! Now, which one's your friend, masterhealer?"

"We are all friends here, my lord," I answered, my arms wide to indicate everyone at the table as I made my way around to the other side. Stopping behind Ryeena, I added, "But this is my very special and dearest friend. Lord Groghe, allow me to present my assistant, Apprentice Dragon Healer Ryeena."

"Charmed, my dear," he spoke, bowing to kiss her hand.

"We … we're honored you could join us, my lord," she said, smiling shyly, her face ablush at his courtesy.

"May I?" he asked, indicating the bench beside her.

Startled by such an unexpected honor, Ryeena stared up at the Lord Holder.

"Promise I won't bite," he said with a sly wink and an impish grin.

Gulping loudly, Ryeena nodded.

Space was instantly made for the Fort Lord Holder, and we were all quickly seated once more. Fresh trays of hot food arrived almost immediately, and Lord Groghe was first to be served.

"Now eat, all of you!" he ordered, passing the trays along, urging all of us to help ourselves. "Some of you might not get a chance to later!"

Once again, the hall filled with the sound of anxious whisperings even as we resumed our briefly interrupted meal.

"John thinks pretty highly of you, healer girl," Lord Groghe spoke between bites of food, "standing up to Morshal like that."

"Yes, sir," she replied, bowing her head in embarrassment. "I guess he does."

"They're the best of friends, Lord Groghe," Jerritt spoke up, a friendly hand on Ryeena's arm. "Never seen one without the other. They do everything together … eat, study, work, even play! It's pretty obvious they care a lot about each other."

Now it was my turn to lower my head as I felt a flush come to my cheeks.

"Yes, I see," Lord Groghe replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Ryeena and I both started, staring at each other, our faces crimson with embarrassment. But then, slowly, we both began to smile, then giggle, then laugh out loud.

"Is it that obvious?" I inquired, wiping laugh tears from my eyes.

"To everyone else but you two," Jerritt replied, laughing along with us.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," added Lord Groghe. "Friendship like that's pretty rare. Good thing to hold onto."

"Is it true no one's been taken on Search from the Harper Hall before, Lord Groghe?" Tindar inquired, spearing a large tuber to his plate.

"Never heard of it happening before, lad," replied the Fort Lord Holder, passing a slice of meat to Merga who greedily gulped it down.

"Then those chosen today will be the first!" Jerritt whispered, his voice and face awash with awe.

"No wonder our fire lizards were so excited," I commented, feeding a slice of meat up to Goldie perched on my shoulder.

For an instant, my gaze met Lord Groghe's, and in that unguarded moment, I saw a distant longing in his eyes.

"Have you ever been requested on Search, my lord?"

Groghe blinked, regarding me suspiciously, as if I'd somehow read his mind.

"Once, long time ago. Was about as old as you are now, healer girl."

Ryeena stared, disbelieving, up into Lord Groghe's kindly smiling face. Nearby, several apprentices were coughing and gasping, their tablemates frantically slapping them on the backs, trying to dislodge food their friends had nearly choked on upon hearing Lord Groghe's confession.

"You were Searched?" Ryeena whispered.

He nodded.

"What happened?"

"Turned 'em down," he answered, washing his food down with some juice.

More coughing and backslapping ensued.

"Why?" Ryeena begged him answer.

"My father had been teaching me how to hold since I could first walk," he answered. "Spent every free moment he could showing me what worked, what didn't. Let me make the Hold decisions every once in a while. Said he was proud of me and that I'd make a fine Lord Holder one day."

"Then the dragonriders came," I injected.

"Father nearly bust his belt he was so proud I'd been chosen," Lord Groghe continued. "But I think it made him sad, too."

"Sad?" Jerritt queried.

"Guess he was hoping I'd succeed him as Lord Holder of Fort one day," Groghe sighed, remembering that long-ago day. "Toughest choice I ever made. But my father had worked too hard and long to train me, and I loved him too much to throw all that away. So I chose to stay and become Lord Holder."

"Your father certainly did an excellent job, Lord Groghe," I said, nodding to him. "Fort Hold prospers well under your guidance."

"Must be what you're facing now, Ryeena," Lord Groghe said, gently taking her hand in his. "Tough choice. Like your friend said, a fork in the road, not knowing which way to go. Pretty hard, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir, it is," she nodded, a slight smile playing across her lips.

"Every choice brings some regrets, child," Lord Groghe explained, patting her hand. "Can't be helped. But with such good friends beside you," and he looked at Jerritt and me as he spoke, "the hurt won't last. Listen to your heart, healer girl, then make your choice."

"I'll try, Lord Groghe. Thank you."

Then, before anyone could stop her, Ryeena reached over and kissed him on the cheek. The others stared in horrified disbelief, but Lord Groghe merely chuckled and gently kissed her hand.

"You're welcome," he said, grinning. "Now eat, all of you. Food's getting cold!"

Merga added an admonitory chirp, eyeing everyone at the table. The normal clatter and clink of breakfast soon returned, and our meal proceeded without further disruptions.

Sometime later, as I passed the last bit of meat from my plate up to Goldie, I caught Ryeena's eye and nodded toward the door. Swallowing the last of her fruit juice, she nodded back.

"If you'll please excuse us, Lord Groghe …" I spoke, rising.

"Of course," he replied, sliding off the end of the bench then offering his hand to help Ryeena.

"Thank you, sir," she said as she cleared the bench.

"I wish you well, child," he told her, gently squeezing her hand, "whichever path you choose."

"I'll try to remember what you told me," she replied, bowing to him. "Thank you."

With another bow to Lord Groghe and a nod to Master Oldive at the Masters' table, Ryeena and I left the dining hall.

"John, what are we going to do?" were the first words out of her mouth the moment we entered the courtyard. "Benden already knows about us! What if they request one or both of us on Search? What do we tell them?"

"What do you want to tell them?" I asked, taking a seat on the steps.

"I … I don't know," she answered, pacing back and forth, Bolter circling above her, crooning reassurance.

"Do you want to Impress a dragon?"

"Who on Pern doesn't?"

"True enough," I said, nodding, "but that wasn't what I asked. Do _you_ want to Impress a dragon?"

Ryeena paused in her pacing, her back to me, shoulders stiff. Then, with a quiet, almost inaudible sigh, her shoulders sagged as her head bent forward. "Yes … with all my heart … yes."

"Then, go with them if they ask you."

"But, what about you, John?" she wondered, whirling to me, her face lined with worry. "I can't just go off and leave you here!"

"Why not?"

"If it wasn't for you, I'd never have been allowed to come to the Harper Hall to learn to be a dragon healer," was her impassioned reply.

"And a good one you are, too."

"And thanks to you, I found out that, through my touch, I could speak to dragons," she continued, sitting beside me on the steps.

"A talent that will serve you well as a dragonrider."

"Oh, John, this is what the dream meant, isn't it?" she wept, tears slowly running down her cheeks, her hands squeezing mine begging for an answer.

"It might be, Ryeena. I'm not sure."

"What am I going to do?"

"That is something you will have to decide for yourself," I replied, clasping her hands reassuringly in mine. "But know this. I will always be your friend and will support you whichever choice you make."

"John, I need more time!"

A familiar sensation drew my gaze skyward.

"I'm afraid we just ran out of it," I told her before racing back into the dining hall.

"Masters, Lord Groghe, the Benden riders are here!" I called out even as a challenging bugle from the Fort watch dragon was answered by those from Benden.

The Hall emptied quickly, everyone rushing to catch a glimpse of the slowly circling dragons and their riders. Once the great beasts had settled into the Hall courtyard, we were quickly formed up, the apprentices and journeymen in separate groups, Ryeena and I discreetly in the rear.

A bronze, a brown, two blues, and a green had come. Every move, every glance hinted at their excitement for the Search. The Benden riders were off to one side conferring with the masters, their conversation just out of earshot. But, for me, the dragons were easily overheard.

 _Yes, they are here!_

 _I feel it, too!_

 _The power is strong in this place!_

 _We must find them!_

 _Perhaps you will,_ I quietly sent, drawing snorts of surprise from all the dragons as they looked about for the source.

Pounding boot heels drew my attention away from the dragons. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the dragonriders coming towards us. Sighing in resignation, I didn't need to guess who they were looking for.

"You would be John," the lead rider spoke as he stepped into view.

"Indeed," I said, bowing deeply. "But you have me at a disadvantage, honored rider from Benden Weyr."

"I am T'gellan, rider of bronze Monarth," he introduced himself. Then smiling, he added, "Lessa was right. She said, 'Just look for the guy with the healer pin,'" and he tapped mine for emphasis.

"I am flattered Weyrwoman Lessa remembers me," I remarked, nodding in gratitude. "Please pass on my appreciation when next you see her."

"And you must be Ryeena," T'gellan spoke, turning to her. Smiling, he added, "Just as charming as Lessa described."

"Thank you, Dragonrider," Ryeena said, a trifle embarrassed, her cheeks flushing just a little. Then, gathering her composure, she asked, "How may we serve you?"

"As you've probably heard, Ramoth's latest clutch hardens on the sands of the Hatching Ground," the bronze rider explained. "We've come on Search looking for likely candidates to put to the eggs. We'd like the two of you to come back with us. What do you say?"

Quiet whispers echoed around the courtyard, the very air charged with electric excitement. As T'gellan looked from Ryeena to me, I felt her hand fumble for mine and the uncertain, questioning pressure of her fingers. With a smile and a wink, I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"An honor without equal, Lord T'gellan," I said. "To be chosen as a Hatching candidate by Benden Weyr is … a dream … many share but few will ever realize. While it would be presumptuous of me to speak for my fellow dragon healer, I can give you my reply."

"Then you accept the Search?" he asked, hope in his eyes, the other riders drawing nearer. "You'll be a Hatching candidate?"

"No."

Ryeena nearly crushed my hand even as her startled gasp was echoed by many others.

"Please understand, Lord T'gellan, I mean no disrespect," I explained, hand up begging for patience as I saw the hurt in his eyes, "to you or to Benden Weyr. I am honored beyond words that you would find me an acceptable candidate."

"Then why refuse?" the bronze rider wondered, frowning.

"Because I am convinced my destiny lies elsewhere," I replied, my eyes locking with his. "Ever since my unseemly arrival on Pern, I've been struggling to find a place where I might fit in, a way that I could contribute to the wellbeing of this, my adopted home world. When Darla and Laneth came crashing down onto the fields of Moreta's Hold, I finally found the answer … in my unusual talents and my star-borne healing skills. For the first time since coming to this world, I actually felt needed … and useful. Since that day, I've sworn an oath, dedicating my life to being a dragon healer. My word is my bond, bronze rider, and I am honor-bound to abide by it. I am truly sorry."

"I see!" T'gellan replied, his eyes mirroring his disappointment. Then, turning to my young friend, he asked, "What about you, Ryeena?"

Every eye in the courtyard fixed on her slight figure. For several minutes, she stood, unmoving, head down, eyes closed, brows furrowed in deep concentration. Then, abruptly, her decision made, she straightened and looked straight at me, smiling.

"I'm staying, too," she said, the courtyard rippling with exclamations of disbelief.

"Ryeena, are you certain this is what you want, child?" asked Master Oldive. "Think carefully. You may not get another chance."

"I know, Master." Turning to T'gellan, she asked, "Did you know John almost never came to the Healer Hall at all?"

"No, I didn't," T'gellan replied, looking at me. "Why?"

"Because of me," Ryeena explained. "When Weyrwoman Lessa offered him a chance to become a dragon healer, he refused to go unless I could come with him."

Astonished gasps echoed across the courtyard.

"You didn't tell us about that," said Master Oldive, looking at both of us.

"When John first arrived on our world, he was badly wounded in the crash of his vessel," Ryeena continued. "Yet, in spite of his injuries, he managed to save my life when I was attacked by a flock of wild wherries."

"A fascinating tale the Harpers continue to regale us with," T'gellan remarked, smiling.

"And thanks to his special gift, we discovered that, by touching dragons, I could speak to them, as well!" Looking up at T'gellan, she said, "Being a dragonrider is a great honor and an even greater responsibility. I have no words to express my joy at being chosen." Facing me, she added, "But John has shown me that it's just as important to have well-trained dragon healers to tend both dragons and riders who might be injured during a Fall. All of Pern depends on you. If we lose the dragonriders, we lose Pern!"

From the corner of my eye, I could see Oldive smiling, even as T'gellan nodded understanding.

"You swore to dedicate your life to becoming a dragon healer, John," she said, taking my hands in hers. "With everyone here as witnesses, I now do the same."

"Ryeena, you don't have to do this because of me," I said, shaking my head. "If you want to Impress a dragon, then go with them. As Master Oldive said, you may not get another chance."

"He's right, Ryeena," Masterharper Sebell added, coming over to join us. "Consider well the choice you are making."

"I have, Master," she replied, glancing first at him then back to me. "I want to do this, John. You would have given up your dreams for me." Tears began to form in her eyes. "You've been a good friend, a big brother, and even, at times, a father to me." Slowly, those tears began to run down her cheeks. "I … I love you, John!"

She hugged me then, her arms filled with the fierce strength of her emotions. My own eyes began to fill with tears even as a lump formed in my throat.

"You wouldn't come to the Harper Hall without me. How could I turn and leave the Harper Hall without you?"

"Ryeena, …" I croaked, my voice rough with emotions, eyes brimming with tears.

"I've made my choice, John," she said, her hand on my lips silencing any further protests. "Weyrwoman Lessa called us a team, remember?"

I nodded, recalling.

"Wherever Fate may lead us," she said, smiling warmly, "we go together, either both as dragon healers or both as dragonriders."

The tears could not be held back any longer, and I wept softly, hugging Ryeena to me. It seemed like forever before I regained enough control of my emotions to speak.

"Oh, my dear priceless friend," I said, smiling as I looked down at her face held between my trembling hands. "I love you, too, Ryeena. I only hope you never have reason to regret your decision today."

"I won't," she said, once again taking my hands in hers. Then, to T'gellan, she added, "Weyrwoman Lessa's right when she says the best dragon healer is one who stays free of Thread. And that means staying dragonless. I am truly sorry, Lord T'gellan, but I must also decline."

 _That's too bad,_ Monarth sighed.

 _Lessa will be disappointed,_ a second dragon remarked.

The voice was familiar but faint, as if heard from a great distance. I smiled when I realized whose it was.

"She certainly is well-spoken," T'gellan said, grinning. "And possessed of a sense of dedication beyond her Turns. You two would have made fine dragonriders. I'm sure Lessa felt the same way. That's why she wanted to give you each an opportunity to make your own decision. She'll be disappointed when she learns you decided not to join us."

"She already knows," I remarked, a cryptic grin on my face.

"She does? How?" T'gellan asked, puzzled.

"Ramoth. She's been eavesdropping on our conversation through your dragon," I explained, smiling at the look of consternation on T'gellan's face.

Once again, that distant voice reached me, this time a surprised snort.

"You can hear Ramoth, even here?" T'gellan queried, mouth agape, shaking his head in disbelief. "Lessa wasn't exaggerating the strength of your gift, was she?" For a long moment, he regarded Ryeena and me before speaking again. "A tough choice, you two, but certainly one to be respected."

As a sign of his acceptance, he offered his hand to each of us, which we both shook, gratefully.

"We certainly will do well having your healing skills around," he commented, smiling at us. "And I know of at least one dragon and rider who are already grateful."

"Darla?" asked Ryeena.

"And Laneth?" I finished.

"The same," T'gellan replied. "I had occasion to visit Ista Weyr the other day, and I bring good news. Darla is up and walking again. Their weyr healer, F'reth, told me her legs are healing nicely, and she should recover nearly all her muscle tone in just a few more sevendays."

"Dragonrider, that is most welcome news!" I said, smiling broadly, the same joy mirrored in Ryeena's face.

"There's more," hinted T'gellan.

"Eh?"

"I also had a chance to inspect Laneth's wing while I was there, and I am in awe of what the two of you have accomplished. There'll be some minor scar tissue left, but to look at it, you'd never know how close she came to losing that wing!"

"Hadn't heard all the details about that," Lord Groghe injected, coming up beside the dragonrider. "Bad was it?"

"Frankly, sir, I'm amazed they're even alive," T'gellan replied. "Darla and Laneth had come out of _between_ right into the midst of a tangle of Thread. They were scored so badly, it's a wonder Laneth didn't take them _between_ right then! But she didn't." Turning to Ryeena and I, he asked, "I'd heard tell that the two of you heard Laneth's cry of pain, is that right?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Ryeena and I had been outside during Fall fighting Thread just before it happened."

"Outside?!" Groghe exclaimed, his eyes bugging out. "During Fall?!"

"Yes," Ryeena acknowledged, taking up the story. "Fall had just ended moments before when we 'heard' Laneth's cry of pain." She shivered, recalling. "Never heard such agony and despair before."

"Her cry exploded like a thunderclap inside my mind," I added, wincing as I recalled. "All I wanted was an end to it. In my mind, I cried out, begging whoever it was to please stop."

"Laneth must have heard his cry," Ryeena continued, "and sensed that John could help them. She jumped _between_ to Moreta's Hold, using his cry like a beacon, crashing to the ground less than a dragonlength away."

"Because their injuries were so severe and time was critical, John chose to use his own unique healing skills in an attempt to save Darla and her dragon," T'gellan explained. "That was also the day we discovered his special gift."

"That he could speak to dragons," Lord Groghe grunted.

"Yes, sir," T'gellan affirmed. "His inexperience with dragons nearly sent Laneth _between_ when Darla passed out though it was an act of mercy John used to render her unconscious."

Terrified gasps and looks of horror greeted that near tragedy.

"Why didn't he give her fellis?" Lord Groghe inquired, looking accusingly at me.

"No one there knew how to dispense it properly, my lord," I explained. "I couldn't risk killing her with an overdose, so I used a nerve pinch to render her unconscious and thus temporarily free of the pain."

"D'ren said it was a sight to behold when John threw himself in front of Laneth to stop her from going _between_ ," T'gellan continued. "Not many would have had the courage to take on a pain-crazed dragon, let alone a full-grown queen. But thanks to his special gift, John was able to stop Laneth and reassure her that her rider was still alive. Once Darla had been stabilized, John's other talent revealed itself."

"He can do more than speak to dragons?!" Lord Groghe exclaimed, turning a wary eye on me.

"Yes, my lord," Ryeena spoke up, which I thought greatly daring. "Through his touch, he can share a dragon's pain."

"He used that talent helping Laneth," T'gellan explained, "sharing her pain while Ryeena and the others worked feverishly to cleanse the open wounds and apply numbweed. I've felt my dragon's pain when we've been scored, but with that much damage, the pain must have been excruciating!"

He eyed me then with a look of renewed respect.

"Later, thanks to John's star-born healing skills and Ryeena's fortitude and courage, they were able to repair most of the damage to both Darla and Laneth, leaving their bodies' own natural healing abilities to finish the job. Every rider I've spoken to is convinced that Darla and Laneth would have died that day if not for John and Ryeena."

His pronouncement filled the courtyard with sighs of relief.

"We really should make a follow-up visit to Ista," I said to Master Oldive, "to check on their progress."

"Agreed."

"Then allow me to offer a solution," T'gellan spoke. "Lessa thought you two just might turn down Impression. In that unlikely event, I was to ask if you would consider attending the Hatching … as our guests."

"Us?!" I spluttered.

"Attend a Hatching?" Ryeena stammered, disbelieving. "At … at Benden?"

She stared at me, the question in her eyes unmistakable. A different answer to the dream?

"Yes," T'gellan chuckled, amused by our reaction. "Then, once the Hatching's over, we can escort you to Ista so you can check on your patients."

"Oh, John!" Ryeena sighed, grasping my arm.

"A most gracious offer, Lord T'gellan," I said, bowing in gratitude. "But since Ryeena and I are technically students under Master Oldive's tutelage, it is he who must decide if we're deserving enough to go."

"Sure he's not a harper?" Lord Groghe inquired, nudging Sebell with his elbow.

"Master Oldive?" T'gellan spoke, addressing him. "What say you?"

For a long moment, the Masterhealer of Pern said nothing as he regarded Ryeena and me.

"After this morning's little outburst, dragon healer," he said, speaking directly to me, "I would be within my rights to keep you here as punishment and send someone else in your place."

"Understood," I sighed, swallowing a lump of disappointment, my head hung despondently.

A gentle hand touched my arm. I turned to see Ryeena smiling warmly at me. I knew without words that she would stay as well if I couldn't go.

"Personally," and this he spoke quietly after first stepping up to us, "I think Morshal was out of line and only got what he deserved. But you're not to repeat that to anyone."

"No, sir!" Ryeena and I replied simultaneously, startled by Master Oldive's frankness.

"Well, then," and this he said in a more normal tone, "I think the Healer Hall will be well represented with the two of you in attendance. You may go, if you wish."

Ryeena let out a squeal of delight, jumping up and down, clapping her hands together, while I, trying to maintain a more dignified air, bowed deeply to Master Oldive.

"Well then, John," T'gellan addressed us, smiling at Ryeena's exuberance, "shall I have Monarth relay your acceptance, or would you prefer to tell Ramoth yourself?"

"With your permission, Lord T'gellan," I answered, "and with Monarth's assistance, I'd like Ryeena to pass along our reply."

 _Ramoth says the little one has gentle hands,_ his dragon rumbled. _I'd like to find out._

"What's so funny?" Ryeena asked, confused by my smile and T'gellan's laughter.

"Monarth wants to find out if the stories about your gentle hands are true," the Benden rider answered, smiling broadly, his grin growing wider as color came to Ryeena's cheeks.

"Have no doubts on that score, dragonrider," I responded, smiling proudly at my friend. "Ryeena …"

Gesturing for her to precede us, we made our way over to the waiting dragons. The moment we drew near, the great beasts surrounded us, whuffling excitedly.

 _Yes!_

 _These are the ones!_

 _They are strong of the mind!_

 _What excellent lifemates they would make!_

Monarth came forward.

"Gentle Monarth, I am Apprentice Dragon Healer Ryeena," she said, stepping up to the great bronze. "Will you allow me to touch you?"

His response was to lower his massive head to the ground. With great care, Ryeena placed her hand along the side of his head.

 _You were right, Ramoth,_ we three heard him rumble, _her hands are gentle!_

Ryeena's blush deepened.

 _Will they attend the Hatching?_ inquired Lessa's dragon.

I relayed the message. Ryeena turned to Monarth and silently gave our reply.

 _The little one says they would love to!_ Monarth relayed.

There was a short pause, then I heard Ramoth say, _Gather your things, dragonhealer. Mnementh and his rider will arrive presently to escort you back to Benden._

I gasped, and then, it was Ryeena's turn as Monarth repeated the message.

"We've got to hurry!" she exclaimed, first to find her voice.

"Agreed! Please excuse us, Masters, Lord T'gellan."

"Of course, John, Ryeena …" said Master Oldive as the two of us turned and headed off.

"Oh, wait!" I exclaimed, dragging Ryeena to a halt. "I don't have riding furs. Do you?"

"No," she replied, a touch of worry in her voice.

"SILVINA!" boomed Master Sebell.

"No need to yell," she responded, stepping through the crowd.

"Our two emissaries to the Benden Hatching are without riding furs," he explained. "Can you see if we have anything in storage that will fit them?"

"Of course! Come on, you two. This way!"

Silvina leading the way, we hurried back into the main hall.

"What was that all about?" Master Oldive inquired.

"It seems the Weyrleader himself is to be their escort back to Benden," T'gellan announced, eliciting a flurry of gasps and sighs of envy from the gathered assembly.

"While we wait for their return, shall we see if the dragons find any of the others acceptable?" suggested Sebell, gesturing for T'gellan to precede him down the rows.

Deep in one of the inner storerooms of the Harper Hall, Silvina was systematically rifling through the piles of fur and clothing.

"How is it the two of you arrived here without riding furs?" she wondered aloud, inspecting one coat then discarding it to examine another.

"Are you kidding, Silvina?" I exclaimed. "Until my unceremonious arrival on Pern, the closest I'd ever come to a dragon were pictures in a book on ancient Earth mythology!"

"Yes, well, you I can understand," she said, tossing a riding jacket to me. "See if that will fit. But what about you, Ryeena? You were born here on Pern!"

"Oh, I've wanted to ride a dragon for so long …" she sighed, her eyes taking on a far away look. "But when you come from a small cothold far from any Weyr, there isn't much demand or need for riding furs."

"Well, the two of you will be representing the Harper Hall," Silvina replied, thumbing her chest, "and we have a reputation to uphold. Turn around," and she indicated for Ryeena to face away from her. Holding up a fur-lined wherhide riding jacket to Ryeena's shoulder, she smiled as the proportions looked good. "Here, give this a try."

I'd already slipped into the one Silvina had given to me, and the fit was perfect. I rubbed my hand up and down the sleeve, marveling at the feel of the material.

"It's so soft … just like dragon skin!" I sighed. "And warm, too!" I added, beads of sweat beginning to form on my brow as I slipped out of the jacket.

"How does yours fit, my dear?" asked Silvina as Ryeena shoved her other arm into the second sleeve.

"It's perfect!" she cooed, snuggling into the jacket's fur-lined collar.

"Well, you can take it off for now so you don't overheat," Silvina instructed, rummaging through a different pile of clothing where she extracted riding pants, tossing one to me and holding the other up to Ryeena's waist.

With an efficiency that was as inspiring as it was greatly appreciated, Silvina soon had each of us fitted with a complete set of riding furs: jacket, pants, gloves, boots, helmet, and goggles. Then, the three of us sped up to the second floor.

"Hurry, now! Don't dawdle!" the Harper headwoman called out as the two of them disappeared into Ryeena's room.

In my own quarters, I scrambled about, grabbing clothes from dresser and wardrobe.

 _What does one wear to a Hatching?_ I wondered, stuffing my best Gather finery into a carry sack.

Judging by Ryeena's reaction, I was hoping these would be good enough. A few last items, then I dashed from my room.

I met up with Ryeena and Silvina as they came barreling out of her room, then the three of us, breathing hard, hurried out to the Hall courtyard, Goldie and Bolter winging on ahead, twittering with excitement.

F'lar and Mnementh were there waiting. So were four apprentices, now candidates for the eggs hardening on the Hatching Grounds of Benden Weyr. A cloud of fire lizards, Goldie and Bolter included, swirled in a dizzying display above the head of one of them, clearly excited about something. Ryeena and I shared their joy as the candidate turned our way.

"Sa, zu ch'nev," I called out, waving to Jerritt, "vo amanu retee!" So, my friend, the dream begins!

Puzzled looks were all I got from everyone else even as Jerritt burst out laughing.

"Na reteesa, zu ch'nev," he replied, waving back, "na reteesa." A beginning, my friend, a beginning.

"It was during my first stay here, Weyrleader, that he asked me to teach him the Kendite language," I said, answering F'lar's puzzled frown, "the one from 'Keymon's Song'."

"He has learned it well, then," F'lar commented, nodding approvingly to Jerritt. Turning to Ryeena and I, he said, "We're to return at once to the Weyr. Your friend and the other candidates will be along as soon as they've had a chance to collect their wits."

Slipping quickly into our riding furs, F'lar boosted Ryeena into position on Mnementh's neck ridge while I got myself astride behind her with a timely assist from the dragon's foreleg.

"We'll send back word as soon as we know the results of the Hatching, Master," I called down to Oldive as F'lar mounted in front of us.

"Do send it gently," he cautioned me, a quirk of a smile on his face. "I doubt we're quite ready for another fire lizard frenzy!"

F'lar burst out laughing, the other dragonriders joining him. Soon, the entire hall rang with the sound. Even the dragons were rumbling with delight. High astride the mighty bronze, there was no place I could hide my thoroughly crimson face.

"We'll try not to excite him too much, Master Oldive," F'lar assured him.

 _Must you take all Turn to say goodbye?_ Ramoth peevishly complained.

"Ramoth is anxious for our return, Weyrleader," I informed him.

 _She is always like this before a Hatching,_ Mnementh rumbled, love and longing for his mate in every syllable.

"Then, we're off!" F'lar replied, slapping his dragon on the neck.

We felt the bunching of muscle as Mnementh assumed a semi-crouch, felt the tension through the back, the shift of musculature under our calves as the huge wings lifted for the all-important first downsweep. Mnementh deepened his crouch slightly just as he kicked away from the ground with his powerful hind legs.

Ryeena leaned into the leap, absorbing the shock as effortlessly as any experienced dragonrider. Sitting in front of me, she never saw the tears of pride that sprang to my eyes. Jerritt and T'gellan were right. She'd have made a fine dragonrider!

Great gossamer wings beating powerfully, Mnementh spiraled higher into the skies above the Harper Hall. In the courtyard below, dragonriders and harpers waved to us, the sounds of their cheers carried away by the wind rush.

 _Good Hatching, Benden!_ the watch dragon bugled as we passed the rim of Fort Hold's fire heights.

I spun in my seat, glancing back at the watchpair. That voice!

 _Serith?_

 _John, is that you?_

T'ledon's dragon was special to me, being the first I'd spoken with. It had been a while since we last conversed, and the renewed excitement in his voice made me smile.

 _Yes, here astride Mnementh. We journey to Benden for the Hatching._

 _Are you a candidate, then?_

 _No, my friend. We go only to watch, as guests of Benden Weyr._

 _Oh._

A tear came to my eye, and I couldn't help chuckling at Serith's disappointment.

 _I promised the Masters I would send back word about the Hatching. Would you and T'ledon be willing to pass the word along for me?_

It took only seconds for him to reply. _My rider says he'd be delighted!_

 _My thanks, Serith, and please pass on my gratitude to your rider._

"All set, you two?" F'lar shouted back over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir!" Ryeena enthusiastically replied, gripping the Weyrleader's riding belt tightly.

"John?"

"Ready!"

"Then, let the Weyr know we're on our way, dragon healer," F'lar ordered.

Waving a final farewell to the crowds below, I silently broadcast, _We come, Ramoth_.

 _It's about time!_ came her curt reply, Mnementh chuckling softly as we vanished _between_.


	21. Chapter 21 - Collision With Destiny

Chapter 21

Collision with Destiny

Destiny's path, unseen by man,

Sometimes glimpsed when close at hand.

But when you face your destiny true,

The courage within will see you through.

HATCHING DAY. For the ordinary citizens of Pern, it was a day filled with breathless wonder, heartfelt hope, and countless dreams. For those who lived in the Weyrs, it served as a time to reflect on a lifelong commitment … and to reaffirm the part they played in the survival of the planet and its people. Hatching Days offered a chance to celebrate, to dream, and to reflect upon life and to give thanks to those who fought, and sometimes died, to preserve it … the Dragonriders of Pern.

As dawn broke over Benden, the skies shone crystal clear, the warmth from Rukbat's light slowly chasing the night's chill away. Mist rising from the weyr lake danced on a gentle breeze, and as a final measure of this day's good fortune, Thread would not fall anywhere that it could do harm.

 _An excellent day for a Hatching,_ I noted with satisfaction.

All around me, the weyr was abuzz with activity, people scurrying hither and yon on various errands. Tantalizing aromas adrift on the morning air were proof that many had been up well before dawn preparing the enormous quantities of food that would be needed to feed all those attending the day's festivities. I inhaled deeply, savoring the potpourri of scents.

 _Today should be a most interesting experience,_ I mused.

My thoughts drifted back to the previous evening, and I smiled as I recalled Ryeena's impassioned description of a typical Hatching Day.

"It's absolutely _the_ most wonderful experience of your life!" she enthusiastically recounted, Bolter's excited trills adding emphasis. "So many emotions running through you all at once!"

"First, the dragons begin humming; that's how you'll know the Hatching has started," she explained, pacing back and forth. "The eggs will begin to rock, and as they do, the humming becomes more intense. You can feel it right down to your bones!"

"Then, all at once, the humming stops!" she said, abruptly halting her pacing. "There isn't a sound as if everyone is holding their breaths, waiting … Then the first egg breaks open and the hatchling emerges. It's considered a good omen if the first to hatch is a bronze, especially if he knows exactly which boy he wants and heads straight for him."

"I see," I remarked, nodding sagely.

There was still much about dragons and their riders that I didn't understand, but I wasn't about to spoil things for Ryeena who accepted them as matter-of-factly as she did breathing.

"Soon you don't have enough eyes to keep track of all the activity as the eggs begin splitting open and the hatchlings choose their riders," she told me. "Some people have actually fallen over, dizzy from trying to watch too much!"

Ryeena giggled, silently wondering who among tomorrow's guests would be the first to topple.

"Then, all at once, it's over," she sighed, a hint of sadness in her voice. "The eggs have all hatched and the dragons paired off with their new riders. Congratulations for the lucky ones, heartbreak and condolences for those left standing."

"Sounds like you've been to quite a few of these," I commented, smiling at her infectious enthusiasm.

"Well, actually," Ryeena haltingly replied, eyes averted as she shuffled her feet, "this'll be my first time." Seeing the look of surprise on my face, she blurted out, "Oh, but that's exactly how everyone has described it to me! I'm sorry, John."

I burst out laughing, Goldie chirruping her confusion from astride my shoulder.

"You're excited, aren't you?" I inquired, wiping laugh tears from my eyes.

"Yes!" Ryeena replied, smiling.

"And maybe a little nervous?" I probed, noting how she was gently worrying her fingers.

"Benden Weyr," she sighed, hands clutched to her chest as she gazed out across the massive weyr bowl. "To be invited to any Hatching is a great honor. But never, not even in my wildest imaginings, did I ever believe I'd be invited to one here!" Her expression turning serious, she asked, "Did the Masters make the right decision, John, choosing us to represent them at such an auspicious occasion?"

"If they didn't think we were capable, they wouldn't have sent us," I said, giving Ryeena a reassuring hug. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. We'll both be fine."

"I hope so, John," she sighed, smiling up at me as her arm swept wide to encompass the weyr. "It's just so much!"

Since arriving on Pern, I'd heard many a tale about Hatching days. All of them mirrored Ryeena's, though not so energetically or so lavishly.

As my contemplations returned to the present, I reached up to give Goldie's neck ridge a scratch.

"Today should prove if all those stories are true, eh, pet?"

Her answer was a plaintive creel as she nuzzled my cheek, my stomach rumbling in concert with her hunger.

"Alright, I'll hurry," I chuckled, patting her tiny head.

With a last backward glance at the mists dancing on the weyr lake, I returned to my temporary quarters to get ready.

My Gather finery hadn't taken the trip to Benden at all well. By the time I'd finally unpacked my carry sack, they were in a terribly disheveled state. But, as it turned out, Ryeena and I needn't have bothered packing. The moment we arrived at Benden, each of us was presented with exquisite silk tunics in a shimmering Harper blue, dragon healer emblems woven into the fabric. To these were added leather jerkins dyed a rich Harper blue, beautifully overstitched with an interweaving pattern of dragons and the healer's symbol.

"From Darla and Laneth," we were told, "to show their appreciation."

Tears came anew to my eyes as I donned the exquisite garments. They were beautiful! Checking myself one final time in the mirror, I headed off to collect Ryeena, Goldie firmly ensconced upon my shoulder. We caught up with my young friend halfway to her own quarters.

"You look beautiful, Ryeena!" I commented, admiring her own tunic and jerkin.

"Thanks, John," she replied, smiling brightly. "So do you!"

"You are too kind, dear lady," I replied, bowing deeply which made her giggle. "Now, we'd best get something to eat. I've a feeling we won't have time to later."

Ryeena and I smiled. Jerritt, our Harper Hall friend, would be among those put to the eggs. We were both hoping and praying that he would find his heart's desire waiting for him on the hot sands of the Hatching Ground.

"Come on," I finally said, taking Ryeena's hand. "Something smells delicious!"

Finding the kitchen cavern was simplicity itself. The delightful aromas adrift on the breeze led us straight to it. Inside, the place was alive with the scents and sounds of cooking industry, Ryeena and I slipping in quietly so as not to disturb anyone from their labors. Cereal was slowly cooking over one of the smaller hearths, and it was while we were searching about for something to spoon it into that we were approached by a tall, white-haired woman who manifested a quiet air of authority.

"You must be John and Ryeena," she said in greeting. "Welcome, Masterhealer, apprentice. I'm Manora, headwoman of Benden Weyr."

"We don't wish to be a bother, Lady Manora," I said, glancing about. "If you could just show us where the bowls and spoons are, we can serve ourselves."

"Nonsense!" she protested, taking each of us by the elbow and leading us over to a table. "You are here as emissaries of the Harper Hall and will be accorded the respect due you. And please, it's just Manora."

"Manora, really, it's no bother. We …"

"Sit!"

We did.

"Felena!" Manora called out, waving to a woman across the cavern. "Some cereal and drink for our two friends. And plenty of sweetening. They're nothing but skin and bones!"

"Manora, could we please get something for our two fire lizards?" Ryeena shyly inquired.

"Are they here?" the Benden headwoman asked, glancing about.

"Outside," I assured her, thumbing toward the entrance. "We didn't want to cause a fuss with them flitting about."

"That's very kind, John," Manora said with a smile, "but unnecessary. Many of our riders have fire lizards of their own, and we've grown quite accustomed to their… behavior."

On cue, Goldie and Bolter popped out of _between_ , circling Manora a few times before coming to rest on her shoulders.

"Yours?" she asked, stroking their neck ridges.

"The brown is Bolter," Ryeena explained, pointing to each, "and Goldie is John's queen."

"I'll see what I can find for them," Manora said, easing our two small friends over to our shoulders just as Felena and another woman arrived carrying bowls of cereal and juice for us to drink. "Now, eat."

Then, in a swirl of dress, she was gone.

"Wow!" Ryeena quietly exclaimed.

"Yeah!" I agreed.

We ate our fill, stuffed with an endless supply of cereal and juice. Manora brought Goldie and Bolter each a generous helping of fresh meat. They thanked her profusely before settling down to eat.

As Ryeena and I were finishing our meal, we spotted a parade of Weyr children streaming out of the kitchen cavern, each heavily laden with a huge bowl overflowing with freshly chopped meat.

"For the new hatchlings," a dragonrider remarked as he and a female companion approached.

A tiny gasp escaping her, Ryeena slid around behind me, clinging to my arm as she peered past my shoulder, Bolter chittering nervously from his perch.

"What's the matter?" I wondered, glancing back at the dragonrider and his companion. "Ryeena, what is it?"

"That's F'nor," she whispered, "and Brekke!"

"F'nor? Brown Canth's rider?" I inquired.

The weyrman nodded. The scars he bore would always tell the tale of his incredible journey _between_ to the Red Star. Just as the loss of her young queen still left a haunting afterglow in Brekke's sparkling eyes.

"It's an honor to meet both of you," I said, rising to shake the dragonrider's hand. "Your reputations precede you."

"You've quite a reputation yourself, Masterhealer," Brekke commented as we shook hands, "journeying here from the Ancients' home world, 'Keymon's Song', your blaster, being able to speak to dragons. But it's your healing skills that fascinate me. Wherever did you learn them?"

"The Star Service Academy," I replied. "Field surgical techniques are standard training for any first contact team. I'm glad they've proven useful here on Pern."

"Useful?!" F'nor exclaimed, grinning broadly as he clapped me on the back. "Ista's weyr healer, F'reth, can't stop talking about it! Every dragonrider I've spoken to was sure Laneth would lose that wing. And what you did for Darla's leg is incredible!"

"John, do you think we'll have a chance to hear that lovely song of yours?" Brekke asked, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

"'Keymon's Song'?" I wondered aloud, glancing over at Ryeena. "I don't understand. Surely you must have heard it by now."

Goldie shared my bewilderment, chirping her surprise from my shoulder.

"We have," F'nor explained, "but, strangely, no one seems able to reproduce the dream-like qualities you seem to inspire."

"Will you sing it for us?" Brekke pleaded, her hand resting on my arm.

"Chirp!" Goldie answered, nodding to her before looking at me.

"After that, how could I refuse?" I laughed, smiling at my tiny friend's audacity. "I would be honored to, Lady Brekke."

"Please, just Brekke," she begged, smiling at such formality.

"Would you care to join us?" Ryeena inquired, gesturing at the food on the table.

"Thank you, no," F'nor graciously declined. "Actually, F'lar and Lessa sent us to find you. They're waiting out in the Weyr bowl." Seeing the apprehension on Ryeena's face, he added, "Not to worry. This being your first Hatching, they just wanted to show you around."

"Then we'd best not keep them waiting," I said, helping Ryeena to her feet.

Thanking F'nor and Brekke, we paused briefly to express our gratitude to Felena and Manora for the breakfast then hurried out to the Weyr bowl. F'lar and Lessa were waiting for us by the lower entrances to the Hatching Ground.

"Glad you two could make it, John, Ryeena …" the Weyrleader said, greeting us warmly. "You'd have been sorely missed, otherwise."

"We are deeply honored to be here, Weyrleader," Ryeena replied, bowing gracefully.

"Masterharper Sebell, Masterhealer Oldive, and the entire Harper Hall send you their best wishes on this happy occasion," I added.

"We're very pleased with the four candidates they sent," F'lar commented, "especially your young friend, Jerritt."

"We were certain you would be, Weyrleader," I replied, Ryeena's smile matching my own.

"Still," F'lar remarked, giving us a conspiratorial wink, "we were hoping there might be one or two more."

"Sure you two won't reconsider?" Lessa asked, linking arms with Ryeena and me. "There's still time to change your minds."

Ryeena's gaze briefly met mine before she turned to Lessa, saying, "It was you who first told us the best dragon healer is one who is dragonless, Weyrwoman. You wouldn't want us to go back on that, would you?"

Lessa regarded my young friend for a long moment, a warm smile on her face. "No, child, I wouldn't," she finally declared, hugging Ryeena tightly.

"In any case, Weyrwoman, it is the hatchlings who will have the final say this day," I commented as Goldie nuzzled my cheek. "No telling who they will honor as their chosen lifemates."

"Well said, Masterhealer," F'lar declared, thumping my shoulder. "More than once the hatchlings have bonded with someone not on the sands. Today … who knows?"

The two Benden leaders exchanged knowing smiles while Ryeena and I exchanged nervous glances. Then, a truly heretical thought crossed my mind.

"Weyrwoman, I'm curious," I began, carefully choosing my words. "Has anyone ever… refused a hatchling's choice?"

"Refused?!" Lessa spluttered, her face writ with disbelief.

"I meant no disrespect," I apologized, hands up in supplication. "Old habits, you see. As a member of a first contact team, we were trained to constantly anticipate all possibilities." After a pause, I met Lessa's gaze squarely. "Has anyone ever refused?"

"Not since the first egg was shelled, Masterhealer," F'lar replied. "But, enough of such talk. A Hatching is a happy occasion, a celebration of life!"

"Would you like to see the eggs up close?" Lessa offered, gesturing for us to precede her into the Ground.

"Ramoth won't mind?" Ryeena nervously inquired, peering through the opening.

"Not at all," Benden's Weyrwoman assured us, leading the way. "In fact, she's been looking forward to seeing you again, my dear."

"Me?!" Ryeena stammered, stopping so abruptly I nearly plowed into her.

"Uh huh," Lessa replied, smiling warmly as she escorted my young friend into the Hatching Ground. "She misses your gentle hands!"

Try as she might, Ryeena couldn't hide the blush that filled her cheeks.

The Hatching Ground was positively enormous, far larger than I had imagined. And the sands _were_ as hot as we'd been told, the intense heat penetrating the heavy soles of the boots I'd had the forethought to wear. But the sight of my first dragon egg stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I gasped, my voice reduced to an awed whisper.

They were enormous! Even lying on their sides, the shells were nearly chest high to me, some higher. I'm not sure what I expected, but this …

"They're so beautiful!" crooned Ryeena, entranced by one of the two queen eggs.

Curiously, I found myself drawn to its slightly larger twin. The mottled patterns of the shell were hypnotic, drawing my eyes back to it no matter how often I looked away.

"Magnificent!" I sighed, gently caressing its shimmering iridescent surface.

Abruptly, I snatched my hand behind my back, a strangled cry escaping my lips. What had I been thinking?! Aghast at my transgression, I felt the blood drain from my face as I turned to the two Benden leaders.

"Chirrup?" Goldie inquired, puzzled by my behavior. 'What's wrong?' she seemed to ask.

"Weyrwoman, Weyrleader, I … that was inexcusable," I stammered, eyes downcast. "I don't know what came over me… I had no right to touch…"

Lessa merely chuckled as she took my trembling hand.

"It's alright, John," she assured me.

"But… only candidates for the Hatching are permitted to touch the eggs!" I croaked, struggling to swallow the lump in my throat that threatened to choke me.

With a reassuring smile, Lessa explained, "If Ramoth had objected, the whole Weyr would've known!"

 _You may touch it if you wish,_ her dragon quietly hummed, craning her neck over the egg to look directly at me.

Gulping nervously, I placed my trembling hand back on the egg. The glistening shell was firm and nicely warm, soothing to the touch.

"There. You see?" Lessa said, smiling as she came to stand beside me.

A very audible sigh escaped me. Only then did I realize I'd been holding my breath. Goldie added her own assurances, trilling softly as she nuzzled my cheek.

"By my ancestors," I muttered, managing a weak smile. "I thought for sure I'd be scorched."

 _Ramoth knows you would not hurt our daughter,_ rumbled Mnementh from his perch high above the Sands. _She likes you. So do I._

Speechless, F'lar, Lessa, and I stared at the great bronze.

Suddenly, and with surprising speed, the very egg that I had touched pitched violently, rocking up onto its end before teetering in my direction. Goldie took wing, shrieking in alarm, while I barely had time to brace my arms against the shell, the weight of the enormous egg driving me to my knees.

"I could… use… a hand here!" I grunted.

 _Do not interfere!_ rumbled Ramoth, her massive head looming over the egg.

"Ramoth, don't be such a wherry!" Lessa chided her dragon, startled by her lifemate's sudden belligerence. "John'll be crushed!"

"Ramoth, please!" I entreated her, my arms trembling under the weight of the massive egg.

"We've got to help him," said F'lar as he moved forward.

 _NO!_ roared Mnementh, the force of his telepathic mandate sending F'lar and Lessa reeling.

Such a display would've frightened even the bravest of souls. Terrified beyond reason, Goldie and Bolter vanished _between,_ leaving Ryeena staring in frightened bewilderment as she struggled to support the stunned Benden leaders.

"Ramoth, Mnementh, please!" I beseeched them.

 _You will not let her be hurt, John,_ Ramoth rumbled, unmoved by my cry. _You will save her._

She was right, of course. I wasn't about to let the egg come to harm. But why was she acting like this? And Mnementh! It made no sense!

Grunting and straining, I finally managed to regain my feet. Then, in a supreme effort, I nudged the massive egg back onto the nest. But the effort cost me dearly. I collapsed to my hands and knees, muscles quivering from the effort not to sprawl in the sands, my chest heaving like a smith's bellows as I sucked in great lungfuls of air to recharge my oxygen starved body.

"John?" It was Lessa's voice, her hand lightly touching my shoulder.

"You two okay?" I asked, noting how both Benden leaders were cradling their heads.

"Stars above, man, forget us!" F'lar responded, waving my concern aside. "What about you? Are you alright?"

"I think so," I told him, levering myself into a sitting position, my back against the egg. "Why, Weyrwoman? Why didn't they want you helping?"

"I wish I knew," was Lessa's angry response as she looked up at Ramoth and Mnementh, "but you can bet I'll find out!"

Ramoth merely sniffed. Mnementh slowly settled himself back on his rocky perch.

"Are you sure you're alright, John?" Ryeena asked, kneeling beside me.

I nodded, and with her help, managed to get to my feet. Goldie was beside me instantly, trilling forlornly for having abandoned me.

"No apologies, love," I told her as she backwinged to my shoulder. "I very nearly followed you _between_ myself!"

In the next instant, holders and weyrfolk alike were pouring into the Hatching Ground.

"Shells, F'lar, what's going on?" F'nor anxiously inquired, a steadying hand on his half-brother's shoulder.

"Wish I knew," F'lar replied, smiling weakly. "Damnedest thing I ever saw!"

Brekke's face was pale and her hands were trembling as she stood beside her weyrmate. Clearly she, too, had been affected by Mnementh's edict. Noting my scrutiny, she smiled slightly, gently shaking her head to indicate she was alright.

"We'd best reassure this crowd, Weyrleader," I whispered, "lest this incident spoil the Hatching."

"Agreed," Lessa commented, taking F'lar's arm.

We never got the chance to act. All concerns were instantly swept aside as the eggs began to gently wobble; the dragons, on cue, beginning their soft but insistent humming.

With F'nor and Brekke assisting, F'lar and Lessa moved off through the crowds, reassuring everyone and urging them to take a seat for the grand event.

Things seemed to be returning to normal, yet I was still troubled. Why had Ramoth refused to help me with the egg? And why had she and Mnementh not wanted anyone else interfering? As Lessa's dragon watched over the gently swaying eggs, a possibility presented itself.

 _By prolonging my contact with the egg, was she somehow hoping to sensitize the hatchling within to my presence?_

Ramoth's attention was fixed on her clutch, but the one multi-faceted eye facing me had a curiously wicked twinkle to it, and I could almost swear she was smiling and chuckling to herself.

 _Was she trying to set me up as a lifemate for the queen?_

Drawn by the drone of the gathered dragons, people were pouring into the Hatching Ground, hurrying to find the best seats they could.

"Come on, John, hurry!" Ryeena urged, pulling me toward the tiers as the dragons' hum grew louder.

"Yes, alright," I said, a final backwards glance at Ramoth before I followed my friend up the steps.

Soon, other dragons began to arrive, winging through the upper entrance to the Ground, each bearing a white-robed candidate. Ryeena and I leaped to our feet, cheering and waving as Jerritt appeared astride a massive bronze – a portent of his coming fortunes?

Each dragon alighted briefly on the sands, discharging its passenger before soaring upward to a perch above and around the Hatching Ground. How so many dragons could fill such a confined space and not collide with each other was a wonder to behold.

With Ramoth looking on, the boys quickly formed a loose semi-circle around the massive clutch, the girls gathering to one side to await their own chances with the two queen eggs.

The dragons' hum grew louder, more insistent, rising in proportion to the size of the crowd, the eggs rocking faster with each increase. And just when it seemed the tiers couldn't hold another body, the humming stopped, sending a collective gasp rippling through the crowd as every eye fixed on the wobbling clutch of eggs!

Faintly, a cracking sound could be heard, excited fingers pointing to the fissures that were beginning to appear in one of the eggs. Another, then a third began showing cracks, setting off anxious whisperings, each person betting on which egg would open first. With a final resounding crack, the middle of the three split neatly in two, releasing its occupant.

"A bronze!" sighed the crowd, enthralled by the hatchling as it stumbled free of its shell.

Ryeena slipped her arm through mine, a hopeful, anxious look on her face. It wasn't hard to guess what she was thinking … or praying. But the little bronze turned and wobbled unerringly toward one of the suntanned lads from Southern Hold. Heaving a disappointed sigh, Ryeena leaned against my arm, a single tear running down her cheek.

"It's still a good omen," I told her, lifting her chin so she'd look at me, "and this is only the first to hatch."

"It should have been Jerritt's!" she argued. "Why didn't it choose him?"

"There are still plenty of hatchlings," I assured her, a pair of healthy browns emerging from the other two eggs. "Jerritt still has a chance."

From the set of her jaw and the determined gleam in her eyes, it was clear that Ryeena would not be happy with anything less than a bronze for Jerritt.

And then, the eggs began to hatch in rapid succession, and I was the one who nearly fell over, dizzy from trying to watch too much.

The semi-circle of boys shifted first one way then another as the hatchlings emerged, cheers of delight rising from the crowds as each Impression was made. Several of the eggs split open simultaneously, spilling out a bronze, two blues, and a green.

"John, look!" Ryeena cried, pointing excitedly. "Another bronze! And it's right in front of him! Oh, I hope he gets it!"

Shaking my head, I sighed, "It doesn't want him."

Without so much as a sideways glance, the little bronze walked past Jerritt, butting into the legs of a small boy behind him.

"How did you know?" Ryeena wondered, her expression puzzled.

"Look!" I said, pointing. "The green's turned his way."

"Shells, no!" Ryeena cursed. "Jerritt deserves better!"

"Ryeena!" I hissed, nervously glancing about.

"Well, he does!" she whispered, abashed at her temerity.

"Watch," I said, nodding to the Hatching Grounds.

The little green stood before Jerritt, peering up into his face. Ryeena seized my arm, a silent plea that this not be the one. As I covered her hand with mine, the little green turned and moved on down the row to one of the miner lads from Nerat.

"Thank the Stars!" Ryeena sighed. "I was so worried."

"I don't think Jerritt will mind in the least what color his dragon is," I told her. "He'd be happy with any of them!"

Not counting the queen eggs Ramoth was carefully watching over, the remaining unhatched eggs had been reduced to just two.

"Oh, John, he's just got to get one of these!" Ryeena hoped.

I smiled, squeezing her hand gently. I, too, was praying that one of these remaining eggs would be the answer to Jerritt's most fervent hopes and dreams.

"We'll know soon enough," I said as the eggs began to rock and sway, their occupants struggling to break free.

In quick succession, first one then the other cracked open and out came a blue and …

"A bronze!" Ryeena crooned with delight.

And what a bronze! By far the most handsome to hatch, the mottled patterns of its hide ranged from a brilliant golden hue to a warm, deep bronze.

"He's beautiful!" I sighed, my voice reduced to an awed whisper.

Surveying the remaining candidates, the little bronze started to wobble off towards the far end of the line.

"No!" Ryeena wailed.

Incredibly, the hatchling stopped mid-stride as if hearing Ryeena's cry. Then it turned, glancing back the way it had come.

"Yes!" I whispered, silently urging the little bronze on.

The hatchling stopped. Dazed and disbelieving, Jerritt backed up a step, frantically glancing about. The little bronze was looking straight at him, creeling longingly as it slowly tried to close the distance between them. Envy on most faces, disappointment on a few, the other candidates gently nudged our Harper friend forward.

Her arm twined tightly in mine, Ryeena and I watched, entranced and delighted, as Jerritt knelt before the bronze, throwing his arms about its neck, hugging it tightly in the excess of his own happiness.

"His name is Pelenth!" he cried, eyes brimming with tears of unabashed delight.

"YEE HAH!" I bellowed, leaping to my feet. "Way to go, J'ritt! Alla fenz, zu ch'nev!" Well done, my friend!

"John!?" Ryeena spluttered, staring as I waved my arms excitedly over my head, my thumbs up in a sign of encouragement.

Boundless joy beaming from his face, J'ritt turned and waved, beckoning us to join him.

"Come on!" I said, taking Ryeena's hand.

As the remaining blue slowly made his way through the other candidates, we hurried down the steps to join our young Harper friend.

"You did it, J'ritt, you did it!" I declared, grasping his arm firmly, grinning broadly. "Congratulations!"

"We're so very happy for you, Jerr …" Ryeena began, then corrected herself. "I mean, J'ritt!"

"Am I dreaming?" he wept, clutching his new lifemate to him.

 _Of course not,_ the little dragon replied, lovingly nuzzling the newest bronze rider.

"You look so happy, J'ritt," said Ryeena, her own tears of joy running down her face.

"Oh, I am, Ryeena, I am!" he replied, a warm embrace for Pelenth. "And it's all thanks to you, John."

I shook my head. "Wasn't me. Thank the Dragonriders!"

"But if you hadn't spoken to them on my behalf …"

"Never got the chance."

"Wha… what?!"

J'ritt stared at me, eyes popping, his mouth hanging open.

"He's right, J'ritt," Ryeena added.

"You've no idea how my heart sang when Ryeena and I returned with our riding furs and found they'd already picked you as a candidate," I said.

"But, if you didn't," J'ritt stammered, "then how …"

"You did it on your own," I told him, smiling; a firm hand on his shoulder. "The Masters must have seen something in you when they brought you to the Harper Hall."

"That's right!" Ryeena agreed. "And the Search dragons must have thought you had the potential or you wouldn't have been chosen as a Hatching candidate."

"Pelenth obviously found something in you he liked," I said, scratching the bronze's eye ridges. "He'd've never looked to you, otherwise."

 _Darn right!_ J'ritt's lifemate declared.

"And let's not forget that you were among the first in memory to be taken on Search from the Harper Hall," Ryeena commented. "And, look at you! The only one to Impress a bronze!"

"Not bad for the foster son of a small cot holder from Keroon, eh?" I asked, winking at him. "I think Lady Moreta would have been proud."

J'ritt was beside himself, stunned by his good fortune.

"I … I just can't believe this is all happening," he finally managed to say. "And it's all thanks to you two."

"Us?" Ryeena wondered.

"Yes," J'ritt replied. "You two were the only ones who thought I had a chance of Impressing a dragon. Because of you, I found the courage to try."

"The courage was always there, J'ritt," I said, giving his shoulder a gentle clout. Winking, I added, "It just needed, shall we say… a little encouragement?"

"Thanks, John," he said, smiling as Pelenth nuzzled his arm. "You, too, Ryeena."

"We're so proud of you, J'ritt," Ryeena beamed, hugging her friend. "The Masters will be thrilled when they hear. And it'll sure put those boys in their places but good!"

"I wish you could have seen it, J'ritt," I said, giving him a conspiratorial wink. "When that green came over to you, I thought Ryeena was going to leap to the sands to stop it!"

Ryeena gasped, her face a mask of horrified disbelief as she stared at me.

"Is that true?" J'ritt wondered, turning to her.

"J'ritt, I …," Ryeena stammered, eyes averted in painful embarrassment.

"But why?" he begged, turning to me.

"You're her friend, J'ritt," I explained, giving Ryeena's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Nothing less than a bronze would do."

Gently, J'ritt took Ryeena's trembling hands in his. Kissing them, he said, "Thank you."

A shy smile played across her face as she looked up.

"John!"

Ryeena's warning hiss came just as something butted into my leg. Turning, I met the gaze of the remaining hatchling – the little blue.

Ryeena and J'ritt both gasped, one frightened, the other excited. For a long moment, the little blue stared at me, but …

 _Not right,_ he trilled forlornly, looking away.

"Courage, little friend," I said, kneeling beside him. "Perhaps I can help. Wait."

Closing my eyes, I placed my hand on the little blue's neck ridge.

"John, what are you…" Ryeena started to say, but my hand raised in warning silenced her.

Time suspended itself. The entire Hatching Ground fell silent, everyone holding their collective breaths, waiting …

"There!" I finally said, opening my eyes and pointing to the far end of the Hatching Grounds. "Try the lad at the front of the tier."

The little blue gave me a questioning glance before trundling off in the direction I had indicated. As he got closer to the tier, his cries transformed from worried keening to exultant trills.

In the tier, the lad I'd pointed to turned away, an unbidden tear sliding down his cheek. This place held only painful memories for him. Why had he come? He'd been Searched before, several times in fact. Oh, how he had wanted to be a dragonrider! The glories of Impression had filled every waking moment as he dared hope that one of the awkward little hatchlings would choose him. Sadly, each time, he'd been left standing on the sands, bitter disappointment his only consolation. Several Turns had passed, and the Dragonriders had not returned. Had he unknowingly offended them somehow? Shame and grief overwhelmed the lad. His chest felt constricted, making it hard to breathe, even as he fought to control the tears that welled up in his eyes. Why, of all places, had he come here?

 _Please, don't cry._

Feeling a gentle hand touch his arm, the lad looked up. His mother was also weeping. His father was sitting beside her, brow furrowed with concern. They had been so proud each time he'd been Searched. And when he'd been left standing on the sands, they had comforted him, sharing his pain. They understood.

 _Pain? Are you hurt?_

A second ticked by, and then the lad's jaw fell open in thunderstruck astonishment! Neither parent had uttered a sound, and yet, someone had just spoken to him, their words as clear as crystal! But, if not them, who…

Hope flared suddenly, snatching the lad's breath away. Trembling, he slowly turned toward the sands, his parents looking on, hopelessly confused. His heart raced, his breathing ragged. This was impossible! He hadn't been Searched! Memories of past disappointments boiled to the surface. The lad turned away, unwilling to face that pain again.

 _Don't be afraid._

Out of the corner of his eye, the lad could see the blue, but it was the star voyager from Earth he stared at. Flanked by his young friends and the latest bronze hatchling, the Masterhealer was smiling and waving for him to stand. He had sent the hatchling this way. How could he have known?

There was a scrabbling sound punctuated by his parents' collective gasps. As the lad was turning to see what was wrong, something gently nudged his leg. The lad jumped, scrambling back a row as his gaze met the blue's.

 _Don't you like me?_ it asked, sounding hurt.

Frantically, the lad glanced about. A nightmare, that was it. He was dreaming! Not until the Weyrleader himself eased him to his feet did all the pain of the past finally yield to breathtaking wonder.

With a smile and a nod, F'lar turned the lad toward the steps.

Haltingly, the lad descended to where the little blue waited. Slowly, reverently, he knelt before the hatchling, ever so gently taking its wobbling head in his hands. Sobbing, he proclaimed, "His name is Azureth!"

In the tier, his parents hugged each other, weeping openly, beaming with pride at their son, a dragonrider at long last!

As the lad slowly led his new lifemate out to the Bowl, F'lar's gaze found mine across the intervening sands.

 _My rider wants to speak to you later, Masterhealer,_ Mnementh rumbled, _about what just happened._

Nodding my understanding, I turned back to my young friends.

"How?" J'ritt stuttered, the first to find his voice. "How did you know who the blue would pick?"

"He's been doing it ever since the first egg cracked," Ryeena sighed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "But he won't say how!"

"I promise I'll explain it to you one day, J'ritt," I told him. "Right now, you'd best see to Pelenth. He looks awfully hungry to me."

J'ritt gasped, the look of elation on his face slowly replaced by one of surprise as the true depth of Impression finally dawned on him.

"He _is_ hungry!" J'ritt exclaimed, appalled at his thoughtlessness. "I can actually feel it!"

"Then why not take him out to the Bowl and get him fed?" I suggested, smiling as I thumped him on the shoulder. "We can talk later."

"C'mon, Pelenth, let's get you something to eat!" J'ritt told his lifemate, chattering reassuringly as he led the way out to the Weyr Bowl. "Yes, I know you're hungry. There's food right out here."

As Ryeena and I returned to our seats, a senior wing-second came out to lead the remaining boys from the Hatching Ground. A tear slid down my cheek as I watched the kaleidoscopic mix of emotions on their young faces. Some were angry. A few, comforted by friends, wept openly. But it was plain that all were bitterly disappointed.

As happy as I felt for J'ritt, I was just as sad for those left standing. Though they didn't know it, I felt a kinship with these unchosen. I, too, was dragonless. The difference was mine had been a conscious decision, driven by my sense of honor and my commitment to being a dragon healer. Their young lives, their world, revolved solely around being Dragonriders. They didn't possess the maturity yet to see beyond that single existence to other possibilities.

"Are you alright?" Ryeena asked, noting the sadness on my face.

"I hope they'll be patient with themselves, Ryeena," I sighed, wiping away the tear as I continued up the steps. "It may seem like the end of the world to them, but it isn't, and there'll be other chances."

"And other choices," Ryeena added, taking my arm as she smiled up at me.

"Any regrets?" I asked as we watched the girls gather around the first of the gently rocking queen eggs.

"No," she replied as we were seated once more. "I'm where I choose to be, and I couldn't be happier!"

A tear slid down my cheek as I kissed her forehead. But as I continued to watch, Ryeena's expression suddenly hardened.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Well, what?" I wondered, turning back to the rocking queen egg where cracks were beginning to show.

"Ooooh, you!" she growled, punching my shoulder, frustrated with my evasiveness.

"The egg, Ryeena!" I cried, pointing excitedly.

My young friend turned back just as it split open, the little queen spilling out onto the warm sands. Tears fell as a beaming smile lit Ryeena's face.

"Oh, John," she sighed, my heart melting at the distant look in her eyes, "she's so beautiful!"

"You could join them," I whispered, my hand resting lightly on her arm.

"I know, John," she whispered back, smiling as she gave my hand a grateful squeeze. "I know."

Slowly, the hatchling made her way down the line of girls, searching for that elusive spark that identified her lifemate. All around us, people were making spirited wagers, betting on their own favorites to Impress the little queen. But hope turned to consternation as the hatchling reached the end of the line without making a choice.

 _Lifemate, where are you?_ the little queen wailed, Ramoth and the other dragons softly crooning encouragement.

"What's wrong?" Ryeena asked, feeling my hand tense on her arm.

"Her lifemate isn't among them," I replied, my eyes never leaving the little queen. "She's frightened, Ryeena."

On the sands, the hatchling pushed her way through the candidates, making for the tiers.

"Isn't there anything they can do for her?" Ryeena wondered, glancing about at the gathered dragonriders.

"I don't think so," I replied.

From their nervous manner and anxious faces, it was clear the dragonriders were powerless to act.

As I was scanning the crowd, my gaze met those of the Benden Weyrleaders. Uncertainty was writ on their faces, a silent plea in their eyes.

I nodded.

Once again, the words of my psionics instructor came to me as I gently reached my mind out to the little queen, quietly probing, sensing her aura.

"John, what is it?" Ryeena asked. "What are you doing?"

"Do you remember that day T'rell challenged me to find his dragon?" I asked.

Ryeena nodded, even as the little queen cried piteously, wandering the sands in search of her rider.

"It's something one of my old instructors tried to teach me," I explained.

"She wants someone not on the Hatching Ground!" a voice cried out, sending excited murmurs rippling through the tiers.

"Certain species in the galaxy are linked psychically with others of their kind," I continued. "My teacher tried to show me how to identify the joined pair by sampling the aura of one and matching it to the other. I used something like that to find Rogath."

"You're searching for her lifemate!" Ryeena exclaimed, pointing to the aimlessly wandering hatchling. "Just like you did for the little blue!"

"Yes."

On the sands below, the little queen stumbled, overbalanced by her still untried wings. Several of the girls rushed over, easing the hatchling back to her feet. But she ignored their efforts, pushing through their ranks as she headed straight for the tiers.

"She's coming this way!" Ryeena exclaimed. "John, they've got to stop her. She'll never manage those steps!"

The little queen seemed undaunted. Wings out for balance, she started climbing, one scrabbling foot tentatively following the other. For a time, she did well… until a hind leg slipped. Wings flailing, she fell heavily, pinning one wing beneath her.

 _Lifemate, help me!_ the hatchling wailed, the gathered dragons answering in kind.

"She's trying to reach her lifemate, Ryeena," I explained. "There's a kindred aura somewhere nearby. It's very close. I …"

Suddenly, fire lizard keening exploded right over our heads. Bolter and Goldie swirled about Ryeena, their cries of delight echoing across the sands. My breath caught, and I turned to my young friend, my face betraying what I couldn't say.

"Me?!" she gasped.

"Ryeena, I …"

"No, she can't want me! NO!"

Panic-stricken, rising as if to flee, Ryeena stared with round, frightened eyes as the hatchling struggled with the obstacle of the steps, people on either side scrambling out of the way, fearing the lurching struggles of the little queen.

"Ryeena, please, go to her!" I insisted, pointing down the stairs. "She'll cripple herself if she tries to climb any further!"

"But, John, we're to be dragon healers!" Ryeena sobbed, slowly backing away, overwhelming desire and paralyzing uncertainty playing across her frightened features. "We're not supposed to have dragons!"

Ryeena stiffened, a tiny gasp escaping her as she stared past me. Turning, I spotted the Weyrleaders coming our way through the crowd.

"Ryeena, listen to me," I said, grasping her shoulders.

"John, what am I going to do?" she whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

"Never forget who you are, Ryeena, who we are," I said, touching my healer's pin. "We _are_ dragon healers, sworn to the health and welfare of dragonkind. Nothing, not even Impression, can change that. Please, Ryeena, go to her … before she hurts herself any further!"

Bolter and Goldie added their own appeals, calling out encouragement as they flitted back and forth between us and the little queen.

But Ryeena was paralyzed by the storm of emotions raging inside her, sobbing forlornly as the little queen struggled to reach her.

Taking Ryeena's trembling hands in mine, I squeezed them tightly, praying all the while that my young friend could somehow draw the courage and strength she would need from that contact.

"I'll come with you to assist," I quietly told her, "but we must hurry."

"John, no!" Ryeena croaked, trying to pull away.

Turning so she wouldn't see the tears in my eyes, I shouldered my way through the crowd, my fellow dragon healer in tow.

On the steps below, some of the Benden riders were trying to right the little hatchling, but she refused their aid, hissing and snapping at them, flailing her one untrapped wing about. Determined to reach her lifemate, the little queen struggled once more to rise.

"NO!"

In a single heartbeat, Ryeena pushed past me, leaping down the stairs just as the hatchling stumbled and fell yet again. My young friend barely reached the little queen in time, catching its fragile head and cushioning it from a painful rap against the stone. The deed done, Ryeena collapsed on the steps, racked by sobbing, the hatchling's head cradled in her lap.

 _Lifemate!_ the little queen jubilantly trilled, relaxing from her struggles.

"Don't call me that," Ryeena sobbed, turning away.

 _But that's who you are!_ the hatchling insisted.

"No, I'm a dragon healer. I swore an oath. How can I accept you?"

 _Because, lifemate …_ the little queen softly hummed as she nuzzled Ryeena's tearful face, _with all your heart, you want me as much as I want you._

I gasped. That's what Ryeena had said back at the Harper Hall!

Gently, my young friend gathered the hatchling into her arms, hugging it tenderly before taking the little queen's head once more in her hands. "Her name is Sylene!"

Goldie and Bolter caroled their elation, filling the air above us with a dizzying display of acrobatics. I'd heard many a tale about the glories of Impression, but I was completely unprepared for the innocent wonder that shone from Ryeena's face. I looked away, embarrassed, and, unexpectedly, envious!

"Ryeena, make sure she knows we're just trying to help," I quietly spoke, gesturing to the nearby dragonriders.

Relieved to have found her lifemate at last, Sylene offered no further resistance. With some effort, two of the dragonriders and I managed to lift the little queen high enough that a third rider was able to free the trapped wing. That done, we gently set the hatchling back on her feet and carefully folded the delicate wings into place. Circling above, Bolter and Goldie chattered away, greeting the new hatchling in their own fashion.

"How is she, Ryeena?" Lessa inquired, F'lar beside her, the two having finally reached us through the crowds. "Will she be alright?"

"She's had some scrapes and bruises," my young friend replied, "but I don't think anything's broken."

"Then, why not take her out to the Weyr bowl and get her fed?" F'lar suggested. "The Weyrlingmaster can get you what you'll need to treat her wounds."

Ryeena looked up then into the faces of the two Benden leaders, rivulets of tears streaming down her face, her eyes apprehensive and sorrowful.

"Weyrwoman… I'm sorry! I didn't mean to… I wasn't trying to…"

Ryeena looked at me then, her face and eyes puffy from weeping. I turned away, unable to face her.

 _BETRAYER!_ my conscience screamed.

Ryeena clutched the little queen to her, Sylene crooning softly to her new lifemate, Bolter hopping anxiously from one shoulder to the other.

"Dear, sweet child, don't be sad," Lessa said, her gentle but firm hand lifting Ryeena's chin. "You couldn't have known. No one since the days of the First Egg has ever been able to understand why a dragon prefers one rider over another."

As Lessa gently wiped the tears from Ryeena's face, Goldie quietly alighted on my shoulder, twining her tail about my neck as she nuzzled my cheek.

"The dragon's never wrong, my dear," Lessa said. "Be happy. But more than that, be honored! Out of everyone here, you were the only one she found worthy enough!"

 _The best of them all!_ Sylene hummed, nuzzling Ryeena's tear-soaked face.

Sniffling back a tear, Ryeena looked down, gazing with renewed tenderness into Sylene's loving eyes.

"Now, why don't you go get her something to eat?" Lessa suggested, pointing to the exit. "After such a struggle to reach you, she's bound to be hungry."

"Yes, Weyrwoman, of course," Ryeena replied, getting to her feet.

Carefully, several bronze riders hovering protectively around the pair, Ryeena led her dragon back down the stairs, across the sands, and out of the Hatching Ground.

"John," Lessa beckoned, her hand on my arm.

Tears were streaming down my face as I turned to her.

"How will she ever forgive me for this?" I croaked, wringing my hands, my stomach roiling with self-loathing. "Spirits of my ancestors, I betrayed her!"

"You did what you had to do, John," F'lar quietly told me.

"Weyrwoman, if there'd been any other way," I stammered, trying unsuccessfully to stanch the flow of tears. "I'd have taken her place if I had thought it was possible."

"You? Impress a queen?" Lessa spluttered, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Torn between laughing and crying, what came out of me was a curious mix of both.

"That would really have caused a stir, wouldn't it?" I finally managed to say, a little relieved.

"John, do you have any idea why Ryeena was so reluctant to Impress?" F'lar inquired.

"Yes, Weyrleader, I do," I replied. "Being a dragon healer meant a great deal to Ryeena, more than she'd admit, even to herself. And she took her oath of dedication very seriously. I'm convinced she'd have done anything, even refuse Impression, rather than break that oath."

Lessa's worried gaze met mine, but we were given no further time for speculation as excited cries drew our attention back to the Hatching Ground. The remaining queen egg was pitching violently as the hatchling within struggled to free itself.

"A good flight, my love," said F'lar, his gentle embrace drawing Lessa closer, "to have produced two queen eggs in one clutch."

The girl candidates gathered around the wildly swaying egg, anxiously awaiting another chance at Impression, each fervently hoping that they would be the one chosen.

"A good omen for the dragonriders, too, Weyrmate," Lessa replied, smiling.

With a sound like a small thunderclap, the egg burst open, fragments spraying the nearest candidates, gasps of disbelief rising from all around the Hatching Ground.

Shrieking her defiance, the little hatchling emerged from the shattered remains, wings spread, head held high as she hissed at the nearby candidates, forcing them to take an involuntarily step backward.

"Oh ho, a strong one!" crowed F'lar, swinging Lessa around in his fierce embrace. "I wonder if anyone will be able to fly her when she's grown!"

"Ramoth, she's beautiful!" crooned Lessa. "Don't you think so, John?"

"Magnificent!" I heard myself sigh.

Chuckling softly, Lessa reached over to pat my arm. A sheepish grin was the best I could manage as I recalled how mere moments ago I had described her egg in the very same fashion.

Out on the Hatching Ground, a few of the less timid girls stepped forward, but the little queen hissed and snapped at them, sending them squealing in retreat.

Goldie snorted at such antics, chittering as if to say, _You'd make a better rider than any of them._

 _Would I?_ I wondered.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, I became aware of a growing attraction to the little queen. It was an odd sensation, unlike any I'd ever known, and yet, familiar somehow, as if from…

A DREAM!

Eyes threatening to burst from their sockets, I staggered backwards, gasping for breath.

"Chirp?" Goldie inquired, nuzzling my cheek. _What's wrong?_

High above the Hatching Ground, Mnementh rumbled in amusement. Across the sands, Ramoth was watching, the twinkle in her multifaceted eyes more wicked than ever. My heart pounded beneath my ribs, the blood roaring in my ears as a single, almost inaudible word escaped my lips.

"No!"

With a graceful flick of her pinions, the hatchling settled her wings to her back before coming forward. To their credit, the girls stood their ground, but it was clear even the bravest among them had been unnerved by the little queen's ferocity.

 _Lifemate?_ the hatchling wondered, peering up into the first hopeful face.

Behind them, F'lar and Lessa heard the frightened squeal of a fire lizard followed by anxious cries from the tiers. Turning, they spotted me staggering away across the sands, Goldie circling above, chittering frantically.

"What…" F'lar began, but Lessa could only shake her head in wonder.

 _Not right,_ the little queen sadly trilled, moving on to the next candidate.

Lessa took off at a run as I rocked unsteadily, one hand cradling my head, the other held out for balance. She reached my side just as I stumbled and fell awkwardly to the sands. Goldie landed in front of me, her eyes a feverishly whirling yellow as she looked up at the Benden Weyrwoman.

"John, what is it?" Lessa asked, a gentle hand on my arm, Goldie chirruping uneasily as she nuzzled my cheek.

Behind them, the little queen cried unhappily, butting one girl out of the way before moving on to the next, peering up into each hopeful face, searching desperately for her rider. In between her cries, faint mumbling drifted up to Lessa's ears.

"Must try… no! Too strong… got to… turn… mustn't be!"

Disappointed with the candidates, the little queen made for the tiers, ignoring the girls' efforts to attract her attention and keep her well out into the Ground.

"What is it?" F'lar inquired, coming up beside his mate.

"I have no idea," Lessa replied. "He doesn't seem to hear us." Then, more urgently, she asked, "John, what's wrong? What mustn't be?"

"The others… wait," the Benden Weyrleaders heard. "Please… can't. Choose another… not me…"

Just then, the hatchling turned.

 _Lifemate?_

Two syllables … one word … exploding in my mind with the force of a star gone nova!

"NO!" I howled, collapsing to the sands.

Goldie took flight, her keening shriek octaves above mine. The mournful sound reverberated across the Hatching Ground, stunning everyone into silence.

"Shards of my dragon's egg!" Lessa exclaimed, glancing up at her weyrmate as she put an arm across my violently trembling shoulders. "Whatever could be wrong with him?"

"Choose another?" F'lar absently repeated. "By the Egg of Faranth! Lessa, move back!"

"But…" she protested as he lifted her to her feet.

"Please, just do it!" F'lar begged her. Then, turning, he called out, "Everyone, move away! Give her room! Stand clear!"

Hearing the stentorian voice of the Weyrleader, the candidates on the Hatching Ground instantly obeyed, backing to the very edges of the sands.

No further obstacles barring her way, the little queen slowly, unerringly, made her way across the intervening sands. Lessa gasped, seizing F'lar's arm, uneasy murmurs rising from the assembled crowd as they, too, realized where the hatchling was heading.

"As I thought," F'lar surmised as the little queen nudged my trembling shoulders, Goldie trilling excitedly as she circled above. "She's chosen John."

"But… but that's impossible!" Lessa spluttered, stunned by this bizarre twist of events. "No man has ever Impressed a queen before!"

F'lar could only shake his head, his expression one of amused resignation.

 _Lifemate?_

"Please, go away!" I sobbed, eyes closed, head turned aside. "This isn't right! I can't!"

 _But why?_ the hatchling wondered, her tone hurt and plaintive. _Don't you like me?_

"You're a queen dragon," I wept. "You should have a female rider, not me. Please, I beg you, choose another."

 _You are the one I choose, lifemate!_ she answered, lovingly nuzzling my lowered head. _I will have no other._

"But, I can't!" I wailed, sobbing miserably as I tried to burrow into the sand.

Hearing my anguished cry, Ryeena had returned to the Hatching Ground, Bolter astride her shoulder, Sylene tottering along beside.

"John!"

Sounding a challenging bugle, Bolter took flight, Ryeena in close pursuit. Sylene gave a startled squawk as she suddenly found herself abandoned, her lifemate dashing across the hot sands. Halfway there, Ramoth's massive head stopped Ryeena, blocking her flight. Bolter continued on, unimpeded.

"Ramoth, let me through, please!" she implored. "I've got to help him!"

 _No,_ Lessa's dragon rumbled, her tone urging caution but not threatening.

"Stay there, Ryeena!" F'lar called out.

"But…"

"No buts, young lady," he ordered in a voice that brooked no contradiction. "Stay put!"

 _It will be alright, little one,_ hummed Ramoth reassuringly. _You'll see._

Sylene nudged her leg then, eyes radiating love and concern, and Ryeena dropped to one knee to embrace her new friend.

"John?"

Lessa's gentle hand barely touched my shoulder, but I jerked away as if electrified. Scrambling blindly away, I slammed into the tier, my escape blocked.

"Weyrwoman, forgive me, please!" I beseeched her, not daring to look up, my arms raised in front of me for protection. "I tried to stop her, to get her to choose another… but I failed!"

Lessa's hand found my shoulder again, her touch gentle, reassuring.

"I felt it as soon as she broke shell," I sobbed, each breath a painful struggle. "I couldn't block the link! I tried everything I'd been taught, everything I could think of. But it was too strong, shattering my defenses as if they didn't exist! Help me, please!"

One hand under my chin, the other against my temple, Lessa forced my head up. "John, look at me."

I shook my head, unable to speak.

"Look at me!" she insisted.

Sniffling, I slowly opened my eyes. Clever Lessa. She was using her one hand to shield my eyes from the hatchling. I gawked, astonished, for there was Goldie perched atop Lessa's shoulder, peering intently at me, her eyes whirling blue and purple with love and devotion.

"Well, Masterhealer, you wanted to learn all there was to know about dragons," she teased, an amused smile on her face. "Now's your chance."

At once terrified and confused, I managed a weak smile, my cheeks flushing a shocking crimson with embarrassment. "Weyrwoman, I…"

"No more tears, John," she said, smiling. "This should be a happy time for you!"

"Lessa, this is a queen hatchling! She should have a female rider, not me! I… I can't!"

"We appreciate what you're trying to do, John," F'lar spoke, placing his reassuring hand on my other shoulder. "There are many here, I'm sure, who would gladly take your place."

Squawking defiance, Bolter daringly lighted on F'lar's extended arm, glancing first at the Weyrleader then me.

"This little fellow, though, might have something to say about it," he added with a chuckle.

Bolter snorted, his whirling eyes taking on the angry shade of red.

"The dragon's never wrong, John. She wants you, no one else."

"Your lifemate is waiting, John," Lessa told me. "Don't be afraid."

 _When the time is right,_ Mnementh rumbled from above, _you will know what to do._

 _It is time to come home,_ Ramoth added, eyeing me from across the sands. _Come home to us!_

The words from my dream! Confused and afraid, I stared at first one then the other of Benden's Weyrleaders. "I…"

"Well, if he doesn't want her, I do!"

Whirling at the sound of the strange voice, we found a woman had come down from the tiers. Before anyone could stop her, she grabbed the hatchling's head between her hands, staring intently into its eyes as she tried to force Impression.

But the little queen shook free of her grasp, growling menacingly, her eyes burning red as she backed up a step or two.

 _You dare?!_ the hatchling hissed, gathering herself into a crouch.

"NO!" I screamed, launching myself across the intervening sands just as the little queen sprang at the hapless woman.

For an instant, there was a confusion of bodies as the three of us collided. The impact sent the woman thudding off to one side, otherwise unhurt.

Not so the hatchling and I. Blind with rage, her jaw snapped shut around my arm before she even realized it. Our two bodies entangled, we crashed to the sands, the hatchling coming down on top of me, the tiers echoing with an audible crack as several of my ribs broke.

 _ **LIFEMATE!**_ the little queen howled, slowly backing off of my still form, her anger transforming to despair. _**NO!**_

Every single dragon picked up the cry, the Hatching Ground reverberating with the gut-wrenching sound. I would have cried out, too, but the crushing impact had robbed me of breath, the pain of my injuries blurring my vision as I swam along the edge of consciousness.

"John!" screamed Ryeena as she pushed past Ramoth.

Nearby, the little queen's anguished wail filled the air as she minced about, occasionally nudging my still form.

"Damn fool woman!" F'lar roared, yanking the stranger to her feet. "Do you have any idea what you've done?!"

Fury sparked from his eyes, Mnementh rumbling menacingly in concert with his rider as Ryeena skidded to her knees beside me.

"John?" Ryeena worriedly called out, gently shaking my shoulders.

A faint moan was all I could manage. Blood poured from the wound in my arm, pooling in the warm sand. Frantically, Ryeena began tearing strips from her brand new tunic in an effort to make a bandage.

"Here, Ryeena, use this," Manora said, pressing a clean, folded cloth over the wound. "It'll help control the bleeding."

"Thank you!" my young friend gratefully replied, binding the cloth into place with the strips torn from her tunic.

"But … but he didn't want her!" stammered the mystery woman. "You all saw it! He didn't!"

"Then you're a fool thrice over for not seeing how she wanted only him!" Lessa stormed, her knuckles white about the hilt of her belt knife.

Pulling back my tunic, Manora hissed at the blue-and-purplish markings already appearing beneath. Ryeena looked, too, and gasped.

"Manora?" she worriedly inquired, looking for assurances from the Weyr headwoman.

"This needs to be tended to right away," the Weyr headwoman commented, "but we'll need to get him off these hot sands and out of the Hatching Ground. T'gellan! F'nor!"

Two dragonriders came running over.

"Carry him to the living cavern," she instructed them. "We'll clear off one of the tables to work on. He's broken a couple of ribs, so be gentle with him!"

"Understood, Manora," F'nor assured her as he and T'gellan carefully began carrying me out of the Hatching Ground.

"Felena, grab a couple sleeping furs to cover the table," Manora instructed her companion. "We'll try to make him as comfortable as we can."

"On my way!" Felena called out, running on ahead.

"His dragon!" Ryeena cried, seizing Manora's arm.

"Easy, child," the Weyr headwoman said, pointing to the entrance. "It's alright. Look."

They could see the little queen timidly following us out, creeling mournfully all the while.

"She'll follow now that they've Impressed."

"That's just the problem, Manora," G'dened of Ista Weyr spoke as he approached. "They haven't."

"What?!"

"This woman," the Istan rider continued, indicating the one locked in F'lar's merciless grasp, "interrupted before Impression could be made. Her arrogance may have just cost Pern a queen dragon and her rider."

The implication was clear, hanging in the still air like an impending Threadfall.

"I'll do everything I can, Weyrleader," Manora said, casting the mystery woman a withering glance before she hurried out of the Hatching Ground.

"Fardling numbwitted wherry hen!" Ryeena shrieked, everyone backing out of her way as she stormed up to the woman. "You're lucky to be alive!"

Gulping, the woman backed a step away from this bristling young fury even as Bolter, his talons unsheathed, hissed and glared balefully at her from behind his mistress.

"That attack was meant for your pretty throat!" Ryeena roared. "If John hadn't sensed what the hatchling was going to do, you'd be dead now!"

Ramoth and Mnementh joined Ryeena on the sands, looming menacingly behind her, their eyes whirling bright red, an ominous rumble emanating from their throats. The woman quailed and would have collapsed to the sand but for F'lar's bruising grip on her arm.

Mnementh stopped suddenly, gave a puzzled grunt, then rumbled sullenly as he spoke to his rider. F'lar released the woman.

"John bespoke Mnementh to ask me to spare you," grumbled F'lar, his anger diminished only slightly. "You're free to go."

"WHAT?!" Lessa exploded, her face livid with rage. "After what she's done?!"

The strange woman stiffened, her face a mask of disbelief. "He… he can speak to dragons?!"

"You didn't know that, did you?" Lessa replied, her fury barely contained.

The woman frantically shook her head, admitting ignorance of the fact.

"John can speak to any dragon," Lessa informed her. "And with his touch, he can share their pain. Small wonder that the hatchling chose him instead of you!"

Ramoth's rider looked ready to disembowel the woman on the spot, but Ramoth's warning rumble stopped her, Lessa's eyes unfocusing momentarily as they conversed.

"Yes… he's right, Ramoth," she muttered sullenly. "No good will come to the Weyrs if she's harmed in any way."

Sylene let out a startled squawk, turning puzzled eyes to Ryeena. As Lessa had done, Ryeena's eyes unfocused a moment, then she fixed the woman with a knowing gaze.

"Yes… " she said, nodding.

Lessa, having heard Sylene's message, nodded agreement.

"What is it, Ryeena?" F'lar asked.

"John said there's no need for us to punish her," she spoke, stepping up to the woman. "She'll have more than enough to deal with when the people where she lives learn what happened here today."

Ryeena's words rocked the woman back on her heels. She turned deathly white, trembling with fear.

"Go," F'lar ordered, pointing out of the Hatching Ground, "and pray your own people are as quick to forgive you."

Fearing for her life, the woman slowly backed away. When no one moved to stop her, she bolted from the Hatching Ground, her wailing sobs slowly fading in the distance.

"John!" Ryeena exclaimed. "I'd better go see how he is!"

"He's in good hands, Ryeena," F'lar assured her, a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Your first concern right now, young lady, is to Sylene. Get her out to the Bowl where you can feed her. Then take her over to the weyrling barracks where you can put your healing skills to dressing those scrapes."

"Yes, Weyrleader," she acknowledged, nodding. "Come on, Sylene. Yes, I know you're hungry. We're going to get food now. It's right out here."

Ryeena led her dragon out to the Bowl, Bolter winging along overhead, chirruping his own excited greeting to the little queen.

"Weyrleader …"

F'lar and Lessa turned to the new voice… their son, F'lessan, rider of bronze Golanth.

"With your permission, sir," he said, "I'll fetch Master Oldive from the Healer Hall."

"On your way, then, lad," F'lar told him, clapping his son on the back.

"Yessir!"

With a whistle from his rider, Golanth glided down to the sands. F'lessan was astride the neck ridges before the dust could settle, and the two took wing, soaring out the upper entrance of the Hatching Ground.

"We'd best see how he's doing," Lessa said, pulling her weyrmate along as the rest of the assembled guests began to file out.


	22. Chapter 22 - Impression!

Chapter 22

 _Impression!_

 **Oh, little queen, please tell me**

 **Of all those gathered here,**

 **Whyever did you look to me**

 **Instead of those so near?**

 **John's "Impression"**

" **FRAG IT ALL, WEREN'T YOU LISTENING? I SAID NO!** "

F'lar and Lessa gasped, turning to stare at each other. That outburst had been loud enough to carry across the entire Weyr bowl! Hurrying into the living cavern, they found Manora standing beside me, cup in hand, trying to get me to drink from it.

"He refuses the fellis," the Weyr headwoman sighed, exasperated. "He keeps saying 'Not yet'."

"John, you're obviously in pain," Lessa said, brushing an errant lock of hair from my eyes. "Ramoth could feel it when you bespoke her. The fellis will help ease the discomfort and let you sleep."

" **DAMN IT, ISN'T ANYONE LISTENING TO ME?!** " I screamed.

An ill-timed outburst, sending a ripping shaft of pain tearing through my insides, doubling me over. Outside, the little hatchling howled in concert.

When the pain finally eased enough, I seized Lessa's arm. "I mustn't sleep! Don't you see? We haven't Impressed yet!"

"But, John,…"

Seething with frustration, I glared at the people around me. "Don't any of you get it? What if the link between dragon and rider doesn't become permanent until _after_ Impression is made?"

There was a stunned moment of silence, and then…

"Scorch me for a fool, of course!" Manora cursed, setting the cup she was holding down with a thud. "It was so obvious. I could kick myself for not seeing it sooner!"

"Explain," F'lar requested, still confused.

"Impression!" Manora exclaimed. "You said it yourself, F'lar. No one has refused a hatchling's choice since the first egg was shelled. But in all these Turns, do any of us truly know what happens during Impression?"

"Well, sure," Lessa shrugged. "The hatchling breaks shell, finds the candidate he or she likes, and they Impress."

"Those are just the steps, Lessa," Manora groaned, dismissing the explanation with a flick of her hand. "I'm talking about Impression itself!"

"I still don't follow," F'lar complained.

Manora answered with a disgusted snort. "Think, both of you. Did either of you feel or hear anything before Impression was made?"

 _Finally_ , I silently muttered.

"Now that you mention it," F'lar murmured, rubbing his chin, "I do remember hearing Mnementh speaking to me just before we Impressed."

"Yes," Lessa chimed in, nodding. "Ramoth did the same with me."

"An initial link, just like the one John and the little queen are sharing right now," Manora went on. "The difference is each of you was expecting to Impress so there was no pause between that initial contact and the final bonding."

"I'm still lost," F'lar grumbled.

"The bond between John and the hatchling, however strong it may be, is still incomplete," the Weyr headwoman went on. "If John is right, and I think he is, the link he shares with the little queen may break if he passes out or is drugged asleep."

"If that happens," Lessa chimed in, quickly picking up the train of thought, "the hatchling may panic thinking John is dead and go _between_!" Whirling, Lessa stared at me, her jaw hanging open. "By the First Egg!"

"Ancestors, thank you!" I muttered, collapsing back against the sleeping furs. "Finally, someone understands!"

"Don't bother wasting that kick on yourself, Manora," F'lar chuckled, grinning at her. "Use it on me instead. And I'm supposed to be the Weyrleader! Shells, John. No wonder you kept refusing the fellis!'"

Smiling as she took my hand, Lessa told him, "That's not all he said."

Confused, F'lar glanced from her to Manora.

"'We haven't Impressed… _yet_ '," Manora repeated, emphasizing the final word as she took my other hand.

"Then you accept the queen?" Lessa asked, her expression hopeful.

"There's no other choice, Weyrwoman," I muttered, closing my eyes. "If we don't Impress, she'll die. I'd never forgive myself if I let that happen."

"Damn it!" The cavern echoed with the sound of my blow as I pounded the sleeping furs beneath me in frustration. "Why did she have to pick me of all people? Why?"

"The dragon is a reflection of his or her rider, John," Manora calmly replied. "Perhaps she chose you because she could sense the truth that lies within your heart."

Gasping, my head snapped around so fast to stare at Manora, I later wondered how I avoided getting whiplash. Slowly, Manora smiled, nodding to me. I turned away, blushing so fiercely, even my toes felt warm! No one, not my closest friends, not even my family knew the truth about me. How could she have guessed?

"I thought as much," Manora quietly said, patting my hand. "No reason to be ashamed, John. The sexual proclivities of dragonriders are well known across Pern. It was simply a matter of time before something like this happened."

"What are you saying, Manora?" Lessa stammered, having only now considered the possibility. "You can't seriously mean that John would rather…"

"Look at the evidence, Lessa," Manora told her, gently placing my hand on my stomach. "It all points to one conclusion. The little queen's choice merely confirms it."

Silence descended over the room. Then, a hand lightly brushed my cheek. With gentle pressure, Lessa turned my face to her.

"Is it true, John?" she asked, eyeing me closely. "You'd rather be," and she gestured from herself to Manora, "like us?"

Tears pouring from my eyes, with a quiet sob, I turned away, slowly nodding.

"I see," Lessa quietly remarked, her gentle hand resting on my shoulder. "Well, that certainly explains a lot."

Outside, the mournful creel of the little queen brought everyone back to the current crisis.

"It'll all come right, John," Lessa said, putting all the confidence she could muster into her voice. "I'm sure it will."

"For her sake and mine, Weyrwoman," I managed to whisper, sniffling back tears, "I hope so."

"Try not to worry," she told me, stroking my forehead. "F'lessan has gone to fetch Master Oldive. Just rest until he gets back."

"Can't," I argued, shaking my head. "The little queen's growing weaker. I can feel it. Has she eaten anything at all?"

 _No,_ Ramoth responded. _She is too upset because of what she did to you._

"Ramoth, can any of you get her to eat something?" I begged, speaking aloud as I sent so Lessa would hear. "Anything at all?"

 _I have tried, Masterhealer,_ Lessa's queen replied. _She will not listen._

 _No one but you can help her now, Masterhealer,_ Mnementh rumbled. _You must hurry!_

There was no mistaking the fear in the dragons' thoughts or in the looks that passed between F'lar and Lessa.

"Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy," I said, speaking to those gathered around me, "but could you lower me down to the floor?"

"The floor?!" Manora exclaimed.

"Well, the hatchling can't reach me up here, can she?"

All three looked at each other, a slow smile lighting their faces.

"F'nor, T'gellan, give us a hand!" F'lar ordered, waving to the nearby riders.

"I'll get the meat," Lessa volunteered as she headed off.

"You've checked my ribs, Manora?" I asked, turning to the Weyr headwoman.

She nodded.

Wincing as I probed them with a finger, I said, "Alright, I'll try not to aggravate them. Can you give me something to ease the pain yet allow me to remain conscious?"

"Yes, but…"

"Manora, please," I begged, taking her hand. "I've seen how dragons and riders share their suffering. If we try to Impress now, the shock of so much pain may send her _between_. Help me, please, or we'll lose her!"

With a quick nod, Manora moved off.

More sleeping furs were piled on the floor, then the dragonmen gingerly transferred me to my new resting place. In almost no time, Manora was back, cup in hand; Lessa right behind her, bowl of meat cradled in her arms.

"Here, drink this," Manora said, kneeling beside me then lifting my head to the cup she held. "There's just enough fellis to ease the pain, but you'll remain conscious."

"Thank you," I said, downing the drink.

"Here's the meat you'll need," Lessa told me, setting the bowl off to one side.

"I can sympathize with some of what you must be going through, John," Mirrim said as she stepped into view. "No woman had ever Impressed a fighting dragon until Path chose me. At the time, I was confused, uncertain, even frightened. But it soon passed as the bond between us grew stronger."

"The same will happen for you, I'm sure," Manora finished. "Try not to worry."

"I'll do my best," I promised. "Now, where is she?"

"Just outside," Lessa answered. "Ramoth says she's afraid to come in after what she did to you."

I drew a deep breath then slowly let it out, trying to still my fluttering heart. No man had ever Impressed a queen before. Was Manora right? Had the little queen truly sensed the secret that lay in my heart?

 _Weyrwoman Lessa called us a team, remember?_ Ryeena's words, spoken just the other day back at the Harper Hall. _Wherever Fate may lead us, we go together, either both as dragon healers or both as dragonriders._

Prophetic words.

"John?" Lessa's voice, quiet, concerned, her hand lightly touching my shoulder.

"I'll be alright," I assured her, managing a tremulous smile.

And, then, there was Ramoth. She had let us near the clutch, allowed me to touch the egg. She and Mnementh had kept the others from helping when it had rolled out of the nest. Had she also sensed the truth about me? Or was she merely trying to ensure her child would have the best possible chance for survival? Had our positions been reversed, wouldn't I have done the same?

Closing my eyes, I forced myself to relax. The fellis was starting to work, but I estimated it would be several minutes yet before I could risk Impression. Praying to my ancestors for the time I would need, I gently reached my mind out to the hatchling.

 _I am here, little one,_ I silently called.

 _Lifemate?_ she responded, fear and desperation in her voice.

 _Yes,_ I replied, that simple acknowledgement of our relationship filling me with a relief both strange and wondrous.

 _Lifemate, forgive me!_ the little queen wailed, fear and uncertainty battering my senses. _I didn't mean to hurt you!_

Nearly hidden beneath that maelstrom of emotions was something even more basic: stomach-knotting, gut-twisting hunger. She needed food, fast!

 _I know that, little one, so there is nothing to forgive,_ I assured her. _Please come to me now. You must eat._

 _You're not angry?_

 _No! How could I be? I love you!_

And I did, I realized, with a passion that surprised me!

 _Lifemate!_

The love and longing compressed into that single thought was so overwhelming that I gasped, reeling from its power.

"John?" Lessa's voice, concerned, her hand clutching my shoulder.

"It… I… Whoa!" I stammered, swallowing once. "That… Spirits of my ancestors, never felt anything like that before!"

"You will again, John… soon," Lessa told me, understanding in her voice.

After a moment to gather my wits, I said to the hatchling, _Now come and eat, little one,_ _so we will both feel better._

 _She comes,_ Ramoth informed us.

Through Lessa's dragon, I saw the little queen enter the Living Cavern. Eyes closed, I heard the scrabbling sound of her talons as she slowly approached. Goldie was somewhere nearby, chirruping encouragement when, unexpectedly, F'lar burst out laughing, Manora and Lessa quietly joining him.

"You should see this, John," Lessa giggled, squeezing my shoulder. "Goldie is riding atop the little queen, guiding her to you. Oh, this is priceless!"

"Never thought I'd see the day we'd have a fire lizard dragonrider!" F'lar howled with delight. "Eh, Manora?"

The laughter was infectious, and I found I was smiling in spite of myself.

"It seems you're not the only one, F'lar," Manora commented. "Look."

Muted conversations and an occasional giggle reached my ears from the direction of the cavern entrance.

"Seems we've attracted some attention," I said, smiling. "A good-sized crowd by the sound of it. Well, a little laughter never hurt anyone. Good girl, Goldie. Bring her here!"

A few more cheeps from my little golden friend, then the scratching sounds ceased. Seconds later, Goldie landed on the sleeping furs, head caressing my cheek as she gave a satisfied chirp.

"She's here, John," Lessa whispered, squeezing my shoulder before she and the others backed away.

I held out my hand.

 _Lifemate?_ trilled the little queen, her thoughts full of sorrow as she hesitantly nudged my outstretched hand.

"No more fear, little one," I assured her, gently scratching her eye ridges. "Soon we'll be united. Now, please eat."

Scooping up a handful of meat, I offered it to her. Overcome with relief, the hatchling gulped it down.

 _More!_ she demanded.

"You can have all you want!" I laughed, grabbing another handful. "But chew it first or you'll choke."

 _Chew?_ she wondered, sounding puzzled.

"Like this," I told her, projecting an image of a dragon eating. "See?"

Taking another piece of meat, the hatchling followed the example.

"That's right," I said. "Good!"

The little queen's appetite was voracious, and even chewing, the entire bowl was emptied with ravenous dispatch.

 _You are happy?_ she asked, plunging her muzzle into the bowl to retrieve the last of the meat.

"Very happy, little one," I sighed contentedly. "Because now I know you're going to be alright."

 _I'm happy, too, because you are happy,_ she said, gulping down the last of the meat. _I'm still hungry, though._

Nudging my cheek, Goldie gave such a pitiful squawk that I burst out laughing.

"Poor Goldie!" I chuckled, stroking her neck ridge. "Yes, we'll get you some, too, but there's something I must do first."

My little fire lizard friend chirruped a question at me.

"Yes, little friend. It's time."

Instantly, Goldie began an excited hum just as dragons did at a Hatching, but the sound of many other fire lizards taking up the call was surprising and unexpected. The fellis juice had done its work, my ribs and arm aching only slightly. The hatchling could certainly deal with that.

But what else was I feeling? Nervous, excited, scared, overjoyed, uncertain, jubilant, frightened, relieved … so many conflicting emotions all running rampant through my consciousness! I drew a long, slow breath to steady myself, the fire lizards' hum strangely reassuring. Then I reached out and placed my hand against the side of the little queen's head.

 _Now?_ she excitedly asked, the fire lizards' hum rising in pitch and intensity.

"Yes, my heart," I replied, patting her neck as she moved closer. "Now we two will finally be one."

Drawing one last breath and letting it out, I slowly opened my eyes.

Whirling rainbows looked back. Suddenly, I felt like I was falling from an impossibly great height. And yet, I wasn't afraid, for almost at once I felt myself buoyed up, enwrapped and protected by the overwhelming power of the feelings that now flowed into me: feelings of unending love, completeness, and surrender. No words could describe the experience. It was simply … Impression!

"How could I have been afraid of this?" I wept as I hugged the little queen's head to my own, overcome by the sheer majesty of it all, the pain in my ribs totally forgotten.

Tears of joy streaming down my face, I opened my mind and heart fully to the little hatchling, surrendering completely to the wonder and power of Impression. The matchless beauty of the rainbow-colored eyes that looked into mine left me delirious with joy. I loved the little dragon with an astonishing sense of completion. I could not recall a happier time in my life. All I wanted to do was look at the little golden dragon, just look at her. I had the wondrous feeling of being together with her. No matter where she was, the rapport between us would remain. I was her and she was me… one, inviolable, inseparable, complete.

And there was something else I was aware of, too.

"Her name is Tarnaa!" I sobbed with joy, rivers of tears flowing down my cheeks.

Outside, the Weyr bowl resounded with thunderous dragon jubilation. The fire lizards added their own joyful cries, swirling in a dizzying aerial display around us. Only then did I notice how many people were in the Living Cavern.

"Oh!" I gasped.

They were everywhere, watching intently. Most seemed relieved and hopeful, some indifferent, one or two frowning in consternation.

 _Nearly everyone who attended the Hatching must be here,_ I realized.

All at once, several burst into cheers and applause. Startled, Goldie nearly tumbled off the sleeping furs. She flapped her wings at the crowd, chirruping imperiously, those nearest laughing with delight.

F'lar and Lessa were also there, smiling broadly, clearly relieved and happy. And, to my own intense relief, Manora, smiling and nodding her acceptance of the Impression.

"Thank you," I mouthed the words to her, smiling as I nodded my gratitude.

She bowed graciously in return.

 _So many!_ Tarnaa spoke, looking about. _Why are they here?_

"They were worried about you, my heart," I answered, stroking her neck ridge. "Now that you're alright, they're happy, too."

I motioned for F'lar, Lessa, and the others to join us.

"Tarnaa, this is Weyrleader F'lar and Weyrwoman Lessa," I said, indicating the two Benden leaders. "Their dragons, bronze Mnementh and gold Ramoth, are your sire and dam."

Tarnaa graciously inclined her head to them, my heart spilling over with delight and pride.

"She certainly is well-mannered," Lessa remarked, smiling broadly. "May I?"

From somewhere behind her, she produced another bowl of chopped meat. Tarnaa looked to me expectantly.

"Have all you want," I said, patting her head. Then to Lessa, I added, "But you better hand me a piece of that, or I'm liable to lose an ear to Goldie's talons!"

As if to emphasize the point, my tiny friend snorted right in my ear.

"Hey!" I laughed, jerking my head away. "Watch it, you, or I won't let you ride Tarnaa again."

Goldie's expression turned into such a comical mask of dejection, a mournful, apologetic chirp escaping her that everyone who witnessed it couldn't help but laugh!

"I was just teasing, Goldie," I assured her, stroking her head knobs.

"Here, this should make her feel better," Lessa said, offering my tiny friend a large piece of the chopped meat.

Goldie turned to me, her eyes a mix of orange and green, chirping uncertainly as if to say 'It's so big!'

"Well, you said you were hungry!" I laughed.

My little golden friend trilled a long sigh of delight as she accepted the sizable morsel from Lessa. Then, chirruping happily, she hopped to the floor beside Tarnaa to dine.

With all the excitement finally winding down, the crowds began to thin out as they sought to satisfy their own appetites.

"John, thank you," F'lar said, offering me his hand. "I know that was not an easy decision to make."

"There really was no choice, Weyrleader, once Tarnaa had made up her mind," I replied, firmly shaking his hand. "Come Fog, Fall, or Fire, it had to be done."

"Yes, well, that still leaves us with a bit of a problem," he commented.

"What's that?" Lessa asked, looking up from Tarnaa's feeding.

"Do we shorten your name like the other male dragonriders?" he wondered. "Or leave it alone like the queen riders?"

"Well, whatever choice you make will have to wait till later," Manora spoke, coming forward. "John's had enough excitement for one day."

"Manora, I'm not a child!" I petulantly complained, instantly regretting my words as I witnessed the hurt on her face. "Manora, I…" I stammered, self-rebuke tying my tongue. "You were right. I have had too much excitement, and I'm not thinking clearly. That was cruel and uncalled for. I… I'm sorry."

"And you should be!" she snapped.

I winced, stung by her words, thoroughly shamed.

"Now let's get you back up on the table," she told me, "so Master Oldive can have a look at you."

"He's here?" I pondered as a half dozen dragonriders lifted me back up to the table.

"F'lessan brought me a-dragonback from the Healer Hall just after you'd been hurt," he spoke, stepping up to my side.

To my surprise, Silvina was with him, smiling broadly with delight.

"Master, how long have you been waiting?" I asked.

"We arrived just as the little queen was coming in to join with you," Silvina replied.

"What?!" I gasped, utterly dismayed. "Why didn't someone tell me?"

"Take it easy, John," Master Oldive spoke, a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "F'lessan told us what had happened on the way here. And when we arrived, Manora pulled us off to one side to explain what was going on."

Mortified, I stared at the Weyr headwoman, tears filling my eyes.

"We both agreed it would be unwise to disturb you until you'd done all you could to save the little queen," Oldive said. Then, with a reassuring smile and a pat on my shoulder, he added, "I'm glad to see you succeeded."

I burst into tears.

 _Lifemate?_ Tarnaa crooned, worriedly nudging my leg. _Why are you unhappy?_

"John, what is it?" Master Oldive asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… everything!" I sobbed, throwing my hands up despondently. "I'm just so confused!"

I turned to Manora, tears pouring down my face.

"In the short time since we first met, you've shown me nothing but kindness," I wept, no more able to control my tears than the sobs that robbed me of breath. "And I turn around and hurt you!"

"John…" Manora began, raising her hand to calm me.

"I saw it on your face!" I cried, dashing tears from my eyes. "Manora, you've got to believe me! I never meant to hurt you! I'm sorry… so very sorry!"

I buried my face in my hands, unable to look at her. Tarnaa nuzzled my leg, radiating love and compassion while Goldie caressed my cheek, chirruping reassurance.

"John," Manora quietly spoke as she gently pulled my hands away from my face, "it's alright."

Startled by her calm assurance, I looked up to find her smiling.

"Given the extraordinary strain you've been under, it's understandable."

"Manora, I…" I wept, grasping her hands. "Please forgive me. I am sorry."

"I know, John, I know," she replied, wiping a tear from my eyes. "Now lie back and try to relax. You'll feel better soon."

"Thanks, Manora," I said, smiling as I settled onto the sleeping furs.

"Well, John," said Master Oldive as I wiped away the last of the tears, "aside from a touch too much excitement, how do you feel?"

"Between Manora's welcome fellis wine and the dizzying power of Impression," I told him, "I'm not even sure which way is up!"

"To be sure, John," he chuckled, the others joining him. "But it is a hopeful sign if you can make light of it. Now, let's have a look at those ribs."

The moment he lifted my tunic, his whistle of astonishment echoed about the room, his brow furrowed with worry.

"I see why you were so concerned, Manora," he spoke, addressing her. Probing the bruised area gently with his fingers, he elicited an occasional twinge of pain, but, mercifully, the blessed fellis had taken care of most of it. "Any problems breathing, John? Any congestion in your chest?"

"I can't breathe too deeply, but that's due to the pain of the fractures," I replied. "I don't feel congested. My guess is the bruising is due to crenellation of the fractured rib ends where some subdermal tissue was caught between."

"Come again?" Lessa wondered.

"He's a healer, alright," Silvina chuckled, patting my shoulder.

"You may be right, John, but we're not going to take any chances," Master Oldive cautioned. "For the next two sevendays, I want you off your feet, in bed, resting. You're not to move around unless it's absolutely necessary. Get others to help you feed and oil your dragon. Use the necessary only when you have to. Otherwise, stay in bed."

"We can put him up in K'van's old room," Manora suggested. "Once we take out the extra cots, there should be enough room for the three of them. They'll be close by in case he needs help, and we can keep an eye on him."

"An excellent suggestion, Manora," said Master Oldive, nodding approval. "Now, do you think you can stand, John? It'll make bandaging your ribs easier."

"I think so," I replied, somewhat shakily, "but you better have someone standing by, in case…"

"With your permission, Master Oldive," F'lessan spoke, stepping up to the table.

"Ah, excellent, thank you. John?"

With help from F'lar and his son, I managed to sit up then slide over to the edge of the table. But the moment my feet touched the floor, my legs gave way, and I nearly collapsed but for F'lessan's quick hands around my arm providing support.

"Whoa, take it easy, John!" F'lar cautioned as he grabbed the other one.

"I'm sorry, Weyrleader," I apologized, my vision blurred, the world around me spinning dizzily. "I think shock may be setting in."

"Then the sooner we get your ribs bandaged and you to bed, the better," concluded Master Oldive.

With Manora's and Silvina's skilled assistance, Master Oldive made fast work of bandaging my ribs. Then F'lar and F'lessan helped me over to K'van's old sleeping chamber.

"Everything's ready, Manora," Felena called out as the two dragonriders helped me up the ramp, Tarnaa following behind them, Goldie winging along overhead. "The bed's made up and the extra cots cleared out."

"My thanks, Felena," Manora said as we entered the chamber.

As F'lar and his son gently eased me into bed, Manora went around adjusting the glowbaskets, giving the room a warm, comfortable light.

"I'm sorry to be so much trouble, Weyrwoman," I mumbled, embarrassed by my helplessness as Lessa pulled the sleeping fur up and tucked it in around my shoulders.

"Nonsense, John," she assured me. "Thanks to you and your special gift, you prevented what would have been a horrible tragedy, and you gave unselfishly of yourself to save Tarnaa. You've done the Weyr… and Pern… a great service, and we're very proud of you!" Lessa paused then, a look of concern on her face as she noticed my gentle weeping. "What is it?"

"Nothing," I sniffled, smiling. "I'm happy, really. It's just… well, no one's ever told me that before."

"Told you what?"

"That they were proud of me," I answered, looking about at all the faces gathered around me. "My whole life I've always tried to do a good job. All I ever asked in return was a little recognition now and then. But no one has ever told me they were proud of me… till now." Tears rolled freely down my cheeks. "You've no idea how much that means to me, Weyrwoman. Thank you!"

"We are proud of you, John," Lessa said, gently wiping away my tears. "Now get some rest. Tarnaa and Goldie will watch over you and keep you safe."

"But Tarnaa needs oiling!" I protested, trying to rise as I felt the itchiness of her hide through our link.

Lessa's firm hand kept me abed.

"You leave that to us, dragonrider," she said, thumbing her chest. "It's the least we can do after what you did out on the Hatching Grounds today."

Disappearing briefly, Lessa quickly returned, two Weyr fosterlings in tow. All three were carrying pots of oil and paddles to apply it with. Without another word, Lessa, Manora, and Silvina, too, bent to oiling Tarnaa's freshly drying hide, the fosterlings and I gawking in astonishment. Tarnaa was soon crooning with delight, the oil soothing her patchy skin. I sighed with relief as I felt her itchiness fade. In almost no time, her hide was gleaming a warm, healthy gold.

Fed and oiled at last, Tarnaa heaved a contented sigh as she arranged herself on the floor next to the bed, her head draped across the sleeping fur, the warmth of her touch reassuring. Goldie followed her example, landing on the bed and curling herself up next to my head, her spicy scent filling my nostrils.

"Thank you, Weyrwoman," I said as Lessa wiped the last traces of oil from her fingers. "Someday, I'll return the favor."

"Just be sure to give yourself time enough to mend, Masterhealer," Lessa replied, an amused smile on her face. "Oldive tells me you're a tough one to keep healthy and in bed when you're supposed to be."

I felt warmth in my cheeks and ears and knew I was blushing. Lessa's smile broadened.

"Don't worry about a thing, Lessa," Manora told her as she and Silvina came up on either side of her. "We'll make sure he listens this time!"

There was such absolute finality in her voice as I looked up at these three powerful women that I knew crossing one would bring the ire of all three crashing down about my head, the prospect sending a shiver up my spine.

Then, Lessa did something completely unexpected. She came and sat on the bed, concern in her eyes as she looked at me.

"Refused Impression, huh?" she remarked, a slight smile on her lips. "Well, after today, we can say someone tried."

Blushing fiercely, the best I could manage was a timid smile.

"Give it time, John," Manora said, laying a gentle hand on my cheek, her voice full of concern. "I'm sure it will work out for you." Reaching over to give my new lifemate a pat, she added, "Tarnaa certainly seems content with you."

 _Always, lifemate,_ she responded, thrumming gently as she nuzzled my face.

"You'd think after so many Hatchings," F'lar chuckled, planting his fists on his belt, "that we'd be used to surprises like this." Grinning as he gave Tarnaa's eye ridge a scratch, he added, "But no one could have expected this."

"I'm not so sure of that," Lessa interjected, her gaze on me.

Our eyes met. I gasped. She knew!

"What do you mean?" Mirrim wondered, looking first at Lessa then at me.

"Do you remember that day we first met John?" Lessa asked, her eyes never leaving mine.

"At the Harper Hall, yes," F'lar answered, nodding as he drew closer.

"Remember how he told us about his dreams, the ones he had just before he reached Pern?"

"Premonitions of things he would experience once he got here?" Silvina added as she joined the others by the bed.

"When you told us about that final dream," Lessa said, gently placing her hand on mine, "you left out some of the details, didn't you?"

Tears falling from my eyes, I turned from her, unable to meet her gaze.

"We all sensed it, John," she quietly continued, "that you were holding something back. We just couldn't figure out what."

Still looking away, I reached up to stroke Goldie's neck ridge.

"It wasn't until you told us about your past that we finally understood why you were so afraid to tell anyone," Lessa went on, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

Gently, Lessa reached over and slowly turned my head to face her.

"I saw the looks on your face when Mnementh and Ramoth spoke to you on the Sands," she told me, eyeing me closely. "It has to do with Tarnaa, doesn't it?"

With a nervous gulp, I nodded.

"I didn't realize it until after she broke shell," I quietly confessed.

"Go on," Lessa urged, the others drawing closer.

"In my dream," I began, Lessa nodding for me to continue, "the gold who rescued me spoke to me."

"Like you and I?" she asked.

"No," I disagreed, shaking my head, "like dragons and their riders… with their minds."

"That was some premonition!" Lessa commented, smiling broadly, F'lar nodding agreement.

"It's funny, really," I chuckled, the others joining me. "She actually seemed annoyed that I didn't believe it at first."

"What did she say to you?" Silvina wondered.

"Just before she disappeared," I explained, "she said the time wasn't right yet… that one day we'd be united."

"Obviously referring to your Impressing Tarnaa," Master Oldive concluded. "Astonishing."

"What happened when the other dragons appeared?" Lessa inquired.

"Two of them spoke to me," I replied, meeting her gaze, "a bronze and a queen."

A quiet gasp escaped her as she glanced over at F'lar.

"The bronze said that when the time was right, I'd know what to do," I continued.

"Fardles!" F'lar exclaimed, staring at me. "That's just what Mnementh said!"

"Hatching Day!" Manora concluded. "It had to mean Hatching Day!"

"Then the queen said it was time for me to come home," I added, "to come home to them."

"Ramoth's words," said Lessa, nodding understanding. "Home to the Weyr, to the dragons."

"To become a dragonrider," added F'lar, his hand gently squeezing my shoulder. "More than that, a queen rider. And you've known all this time?"

"Premonitions are precocious things, Weyrleader," I sighed, a wry grin on my face. "You almost never know where or when they'll come to pass."

"Get some rest, John," Lessa said as she rose to leave. "You've royally earned it."

As the others filed out, Lessa paused in the doorway before remarking, "He was right, you know."

"Who?" I wondered.

"The bronze," Lessa replied, smiling at me. "When the time was right, you did know what to do. Thank you."

"Remember, John," Master Oldive cautioned me, "take it easy and get plenty of rest for the next two sevendays. Tarnaa needs you alive and healthy … and so do we."

"I will, Master," I promised.

As the last of my visitors filed out, Manora slowly covered the glowbaskets, dimming the light in the room.

"Sleep yourself out, John," she told me, covering the last of the glows, darkening the room. "We'll check on you in the morning."

"Manora?"

"What is it?" she asked, pausing halfway through the curtain across the cubicle.

"Thank you. For everything."

"Sleep well," she replied, smiling as she left.


	23. Chapter 23 - From Beyond The Veil

Chapter 23

 _From Beyond the Veil_

DARKNESS CLOSED IN LIKE AN EARLY MORNING FOG, stealing the warmth from my bones. I knew the place in an instant… that somewhere that was nowhere … between. And yet, I clearly heard music, a tune as familiar to me as breathing… 'Keymon's Song', playing in the background. Stranger still, I could see a queen dragon a short distance away, her back to me.

Lifemate, I don't want to die! she cried, her mournful lament filling my heart with such aching, it brought tears to my eyes.

A dragon, any dragon, riderless and between, meant only one thing.

Ancestors, no! I silently prayed. Not so soon! Please!

Swallowing hard against the fear welling up inside me, I moved closer, hoping to learn the queen's identity and offer what comfort I could. Abruptly, as if sensing my approach, the queen turned.

You are not my rider, she rumbled.

It wasn't Tarnaa, I realized, sighing with relief. That's when I spotted the massive gashes in her neck and one mangled eye.

"Who are you?"

Her one good eye fixed on me, the queen replied, Wirenth.

Terror and disbelief jerked me awake. A burning stab in my side finished the job.

Spirits of my ancestors, not again! I silently groaned, cradling my ribs as I collapsed back onto the rushes.

Lifemate? Tarnaa hummed, nuzzling my cheek.

"Sorry, my heart," I assured her, giving her muzzle a pat. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Are you alright?

"Yes, my love," I said, scratching her eye ridges. "It was just a dream."

Goldie's sleepy squawk of protest let us both know she didn't appreciate being disturbed. Chuckling, I reached over to scratch her eye ridges. It wasn't long before she was asleep once more.

The room was dark. With no windows to let in light, it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. That only served to focus my attention back on the dream.

Damned precognitive nuisances. They were never straightforward or easily understood. Still, I knew better than to ignore it.

What could it mean? I silently wondered. Brekke's dragon has been dead between for many Turns now!

Precognition - one of the many psionic abilities the Star Service Academy had tested for. The staff that had administered the tests had all been highly gifted in one form or another, some of them multi-disciplined. And yet, through all the intensive, exhausting, sometimes excruciating screening that I had endured, not a single shred of any psionic ability had manifested itself. Yet, now, not only was I a demonstrated draconic telepath of extraordinary power and ability, I was also a contact empath as well as a proven precog. With their seemingly infinite experience in psionics, how could the staff at the Academy have been so profoundly wrong about me?

Could my talent have simply lain dormant, unnoticed and overlooked, until I had reached a certain age? Possibly. Many such cases were documented in the materials we had studied.

Oh, Narloncho, I thought, recalling my departed friend. Could this be why we had felt so drawn to each other?

A rustling noise caught my attention. Looking up, I spotted a pale shaft of light spreading across the far wall, evidence that someone was pulling back the drape across the door. Faintly, the click and scratch of dragon claws reached my ears.

"Sssshh!" a familiar voice hissed.

"Sorry," a second, equally familiar one whispered. "It's true? You swear?"

"Master Oldive told me himself," the first whispered.

Is this wrong? a dragon asked.

What will happen when she rises to mate? a second inquired.

Someone is here, Tarnaa informed me, swiveling her neck toward the door.

Friends, my heart, I replied, scratching her neck ridge.

"Uncover the glows, would you, J'ritt, Ryeena?" I called out, turning my head toward the door.

Shadows moved about the room. Soon, it was awash with light, my two young friends and their new lifemates revealed by the glow as I slowly lifted myself to a sitting position against the bed's headboard.

"We're sorry, John," Ryeena apologized, Sylene beside her.

"We didn't mean to wake you," J'ritt added, patting his dragon.

"You didn't," I assured them. "I'd been up a short while before you arrived."

An uneasy quiet settled over the room. Ryeena's eyes briefly met mine, but I turned away, unable to face her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sensing my unease. "John, what is it?"

"After what I did to you," I muttered, "how can you bear to look at me?"

Don't be sad, Lifemate, crooned Tarnaa, easing her head under my arm, her eyes a slowly whirling orange.

Why are you upset? Goldie trilled in distress, head-caressing my cheek.

As I was busy reassuring my two winged friends, Ryeena came and sat beside me, Tarnaa grudgingly making room for her on the bed.

"While you were resting, John," she began, absently rubbing her own queen's neck, "I had a long talk with the Weyrleaders. They told me what you had said to them."

Silence followed, neither of us looking at the other.

"You were right," Ryeena finally sighed, rocking back on the bed.

"Ryeena…"

"No, you were right," she continued, resting her hand gently on my arm. "I was ready to do anything, even refuse Sylene …"

Goldie's startled squawk let everyone know what she thought of that idea.

But, Lifemate … her dragon worriedly crooned.

Smiling warmly, Ryeena gave her golden friend's muzzle a loving rub.

"Chirp?" Bolter called, peering around the curtain across the door. Are you alright? he seemed to ask.

Giggling, Ryeena reached for her friend, arms wide beckoning to him. With a powerful leap and a flick of his gossamer wings, Bolter bridged the distance between them, coming to rest in Ryeena's arms. Gently, lovingly, he moved up her arm, perching on her shoulder, his tail twined about her neck as he head-caressed her cheek.

"Truth is, I was afraid to leave you," Ryeena admitted, a tear falling unbidden as she caressed Sylene's head resting on her lap. "We've been such good friends, I didn't want to lose that. But you had the courage to do what was right, I see that now, even though you were afraid it might ruin our friendship."

"Someone once said the right path isn't always the easiest one," I told her, wiping the solitary tear from Ryeena's cheek. "But you're wrong about one thing. I merely showed you the path. You were the one who followed it, leaping down those steps to save your lifemate. When all's said and sifted, you were the one who did the right thing."

Sylene hummed agreement, her eyes brilliant amethyst jewels as she nuzzled Ryeena's face. Bolter added his own enthusiastic trill, wings spread in a proud display.

"With your strong yet gentle hand to guide me," Ryeena said, a loving smile on her face.

"We're a team, remember?" I asked.

"Both as dragon healers," she responded, her smile growing wider.

"Or both as dragonriders," I finished, squeezing her hands in mine.

"More like queen-riding miracle makers," a new voice injected as the door curtain was whipped aside.

"Darla!" Ryeena and I both gasped.

"So these are the hatchlings everyone is talking about," the Istan rider commented, glancing about the room. "That's a fine looking fellow you have there, J'ritt."

"Thank you, dragonrider" he replied, standing proudly, his hand on his lifemate's neck.

"And, Ryeena, what a darling of a queen," Darla continued, eyeing the pair. Unexpectedly, she gasped, staring first at rider then dragon. "By the stars! Your hair is the same color as your dragon!"

"What?!" Ryeena gasped, looking at her lifemate.

"Stars, she's right!" J'ritt chimed in, grabbing a hand mirror off the dresser. "Look!"

Ryeena gazed at her reflection, Sylene peering inquisitively over one shoulder, Bolter from the other. Darla was right. The color match was uncanny!

"So this is Tarnaa," the Istan rider commented, kneeling to scratch my dragon's eye ridges. "John, she's magnificent!"

Chuckles were my instant reply.

"What's so funny?" Darla wondered.

"Nothing, nothing," I assured her, still chuckling.

"Well, she is," Darla declared, smiling at my dragon friend.

Tarnaa bowed her head, acknowledging the compliment.

"And well mannered, too," Darla remarked. Turning to me, she asked, "How are you feeling, John?"

"Oh, not too bad, really," I chuckled, giving Tarnaa's eye ridge a scratch. "I mean, after all, my insides feel like they've been turned inside out a few million times is all."

"Impression does have a way of doing that to you," she laughed, nodding in sympathy.

"Darla, what are you doing here?" I wondered. "You're supposed to be back at Ista with Laneth."

A nervous look flickered across her face, my mind making the obvious connection in the same instant. If Darla was here, then her dragon had to be…

In the Weyr bowl, friend John, Laneth informed me.

Sudden, seething rage exploded inside me, sending Goldie careening about the room, trilling in alarm. Fists clenched, I glared at the Istan rider, Tarnaa crooning worriedly as she nuzzled my face.

"John, what is it?" Ryeena asked, her own queen trilling nervously.

"Take it easy, John," Darla begged, her hands held up. "What happened may actually be good news."

"What's she talking about?" J'ritt wondered, gently reassuring Pelenth.

"Laneth is here," I growled, my fury only marginally contained.

"At Benden?!" Ryeena gasped, turning accusing eyes on the Istan rider.

"But how?" J'ritt inquired, looking from Ryeena to me to Darla. "I thought…"

T'gellan had said they were on the mend.

Goldie let everyone know how she felt, flitting about the Istan rider's head, scolding Darla soundly for such foolishness. It took several minutes before I could coax my tiny friend into landing back on my shoulder.

"Alright, dragonrider, you've got our attention," I grumbled, arms folded across my chest, Goldie glaring past my ear. "We're listening."

A bit unnerved, Darla heaved a long sigh before speaking. "I know you said Laneth wasn't to try flying for another couple of sevendays…"

"What?!" Ryeena exclaimed. "Laneth flew?"

"Not exactly," Darla countered. "She glided."

Who is Laneth? Tarnaa wondered.

Darla's queen, I silently replied.

"A flimsy technicality," I grumbled, glowering at Darla. "She was still airborne. Go on."

"It happened a couple of days ago while I was taking a bath," our Istan friend explained. "She decided to try a short glide across the Weyr. That's all, I swear!"

My silence, like my expression, was stone-cold and foreboding.

"She didn't hurt herself, John!" Darla blurted out. "I'd have known if she had!"

"And how did you get here?" I asked, already having guessed the answer.

"Between," she admitted, cringing at Ryeena's disapproving scowl. "John, you and Ryeena saved our lives. When we heard what happened to you two, Laneth and I had to be here to help if we could."

"What you should have done was remain at Ista!" I roared, gasping as my outburst nearly doubled me over from the pain it caused in my ribs.

"But, John," Darla began.

My upraised hand and Goldie's angry twittering silenced her.

"Dragonrider, not even Masterhealer Oldive understands those surgical techniques as well as I do!" I growled. "By not checking with me first, what you and your dragon did was exceedingly reckless and foolhardy!"

"But," Darla stammered.

"And what about D'ren?" I continued. "If something had gone wrong while you were between and you never returned, what would have happened to him? Did you think of that?"

The pained expression on Darla's face told me she hadn't.

"And what about Pern?" I asked. "This may be the last Threadpass ever, but it is far from over. Do you honestly believe we can do without even one queen and her rider?"

Withering under my verbal barrage, Darla began sobbing uncontrollably, eyes downcast, wringing her hands.

It was my idea, friend John, Laneth insisted.

"Sit," I ordered.

Darla sank heavily onto the stool J'ritt placed behind her.

"How far did she glide… the first time?"

"Half the width of the Weyr bowl," the Istan rider whispered between sobs.

"And the cold of between?" I wondered. When Darla didn't answer, I repeated, "How did she handle between?"

Looking away, Laneth's lifemate whispered, "Not so much as a twinge."

Ryeena and I glanced at each other. She nodded. So did I.

It was a long, painful moment of silence before I quietly said, "You're right, Darla. It is good news."

Head snapping up, the Istan rider stared, speechless, as I began to smile.

"Look, I know I came down on you pretty hard," I began.

"And well you should have," Manora interrupted as she entered. "There's nothing more unsettling than a foolish dragon or rider."

"You counting me on that list, headwoman?" I asked, grinning wolfishly.

"You most of all!" she sternly replied, wagging a finger at me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Now what's all this about Laneth?"

"Seems I've underestimated her recuperative powers," I chuckled, nodding to Darla. "I can't help wondering, though … is the rider as impulsive as the dragon?"

Darla blushed a shocking crimson, a sheepish grin on her face.

"What do you mean?" Manora wondered.

"Laneth is here," Ryeena answered, hugging Sylene.

"At Benden?!" the Weyr headwoman gasped, sweeping us all with her startled gaze. "How?"

"A short glide and a jump between would be my guess," I responded.

Darla nodded. Manora could only stare, stunned by the news.

"I should've known she'd be itching to try," I chuckled, shaking my head. "Do the Weyrleaders know she's here yet?"

"No," Manora replied, a warm smile on her face. "I'd best tell them at once. They'll be delighted to hear the news!"

"Not yet," I countered, waving her back.

"Why not?" Manora wondered, pausing in the doorway.

"We'd like to surprise them," I replied, a conspiratorial wink for Darla. "Any chance you'd let me rest out in the bowl?"

The weyr headwoman looked at us for a moment, her expression stern. Then, with a soft chuckle and a dismissive wave of her hand, she left.

In no time, a lean-to was erected down by the weyr lake to shield me from the sun. A lounge chair was added, and, soon, I was resting comfortably, watching the hatchlings cavorting and playing in the water.

"Feeling better, John?" Lessa asked, joining me in the shade.

"Much better, Weyrwoman," I replied. "Thank you."

"Well, I should hope so," she remarked as I was sipping some juice. "After all, you slept for nearly two days."

Her pronouncement caused me to inhale what I should've swallowed. The first hacking cough sent juice spraying everywhere; Goldie winging away, squawking in surprise, having barely escaped a drenching.

"Two days?!" I finally croaked. "Who took care of Tarnaa?"

"We all did, John," F'lar answered as he joined us.

"ALL?!" I spluttered, looking from him to Lessa.

"Everyone in the Weyr," she said, grinning at my surprise. "Just repaying the debt we owe you for everything you did at the Hatching."

Goldie returned just then, twittering angrily as she upbraided everyone for being so rudely disturbed.

"Sorry, love," I told her as she backwinged to my shoulder. "I hadn't realized I'd been asleep that long."

Be careful next time, she trilled as she twined her tail about my neck.

Are you well, lifemate? Tarnaa inquired from the lake.

Yes, my heart, I'm fine, I replied, stroking Goldie's head knobs as she nuzzled my cheek.

"Manora said you had some kind of surprise for us," F'lar commented, glancing about.

"Indeed we do, Weyrleader," I answered, pointing.

"We?" Lessa wondered, following my aim.

"Who's that?" F'lar asked, shielding his eyes from the sun as he tried to identify the dragon and rider poised in the upper entrance to the Hatching Ground.

Now! I sent.

Wings spread, the pair leaped into the air, gliding on the thermals rising from the bowl. As they soared overhead, Lessa was on her feet in an instant.

"By the First Egg!" she exclaimed. "It can't be!"

But it was, and the sight of it filled my heart to bursting with joy!

"Darla and Laneth!" F'lar added, equally stunned. "They're flying!"

"Technically, Weyrleader, they're merely gliding," I chuckled as dragon and rider settled gently into the weyr lake, "but it does my heart good to see them in the air once more."

"I thought they were recuperating at Ista," Lessa remarked, turning to me.

"And that's where they would have remained," I replied, "had they not heard about the Hatching."

"How'd they get here, then?" F'lar wondered, glancing my way.

Silence … and a broad smile were my answers.

"Between?!" Lessa gasped, staring toward the lake.

"Without so much as a twinge, according to Darla," I reported as I slowly rose from my chair.

"Now just where do you think you're going?" Lessa demanded, a restraining hand on my arm. "Master Oldive gave strict orders for you to remain in bed for two sevendays! Bad enough Manora agreed to this foolishness."

Gingerly, I bounced up and down. There was some pain, but the bandages around my ribs helped.

"Tarnaa is my lifemate, my responsibility now. Don't you think it's time I started taking care of her myself?"

"But, John," Lessa started to protest.

"I'm also a dragon healer, Weyrwoman," I said, trying to stave off any further protest. "From the moment I started caring for Darla and Laneth, their health and welfare became my responsibility. I cannot in good conscience discharge that obligation until I'm sure they'll be alright."

I could certainly understand Lessa's concern. She didn't want to lose either dragon or rider.

"I give you my word … as soon as I've had a chance to check on Laneth then scrub and oil Tarnaa, I'll come right back here," I assured her, pointing to the lounge chair.

With a reluctant sigh, Lessa nodded.

Word of the new arrivals spread through the weyr faster than Thread could burrow. The shore of the weyr lake was soon crowded with young and old alike as I painstakingly examined Darla's dragon.

What I discovered filled my eyes with tears of joy. The surgeries I had performed had all healed very well, the remaining injuries had all closed up nicely with only minor scar tissue remaining, just as T'gellan had said.

Resting my hand lightly on Laneth's neck to establish the empathic link, I asked her to extend her wings to their fullest. I felt a minor twinge as the scar tissue was stretched, but that was all. Next, I had her flex her wings, running each through a full range of motion. Again, a minor twinge or two, but mostly just long unused muscles being reawakened. Finally, I had her try a few downward strokes to test her wings' integrity. Everything appeared sound.

A hand took mine. Turning, I found my fellow dragon healer beside me.

"You did it, John," Ryeena said, giving my arm a hug.

"No, we did it," I countered, planting a grateful kiss on her forehead. "I couldn't have done it without your help."

"You had faith in me," she said. "That made the difference."

A happy tear slid down my cheek as I patted Laneth's side. Picking up on my emotions, Goldie and Bolter took flight, circling above their giant cousin, the massive Weyr bowl echoing with their ecstatic cries.

"John?" Darla nervously spoke.

The Benden weyrfolk were all gathered behind her, anxiously waiting to hear what I had to say.

Smiling broadly, I turned to my golden friend from Ista. "Show 'em, Laneth!"

With a running start, Darla's queen sprang skyward, climbing higher with each beat of her restored wings. She was circling the rim of the Weyr crater before the last of the astonished gasps had a chance to die away!

Cries of relief and cheers of delight exploded from the crowd even as Darla threw her arms about my neck, sobbing with joy, hugging me tightly as she thanked me over and over again. The Benden dragons added their own hurrahs, bugling raucously from their weyrs. Not to be outdone, the weyrfolk mobbed us, bombarding Ryeena and I with a seemingly endless stream of congratulations. In all the excitement, I never even noticed my ribs.

"Enough for today, Laneth," I called, waving her earthward.

But … she protested.

"No buts!" Darla commanded, hugging my arm as tears poured down her cheeks. "Get your great, bony backside down here!"

It's been so long, Laneth sighed, spiraling lazily back to earth.

"You must go slowly, my golden friend," I told her, my own happy tears falling. "Darla needs you healthy and whole!"

"Work her carefully, Darla," I advised the Istan rider, "like she was a new weyrling. Oil that scar tissue daily and give it time to stretch so it won't tear. Aside from that, enjoy the skies again, you two!"

Planting a grateful kiss on my cheek, Darla ran to embrace her dragon as Laneth backwinged to a landing.

The happy news spread quickly, bringing G'dened and Cosira spiraling down into Benden Weyr, D'ren and his bronze Groth leading the way. The dust hadn't even settled as D'ren embraced his weyrmate, tears of joy glistening on his face.

Slipping away quietly while the others celebrated, I eased into the shallows of the lake to begin my new responsibilities.

Tarnaa crooned with delight as I rubbed some sweetsand over a particularly itchy patch of skin on her back. It was slow going, working one-handed because of the ache in my ribs and the still-healing bite wounds in my left arm. Tarnaa nudged me repeatedly, trilling over and over again how sorry she was for what she had done.

You are my rider, lifemate, she assured me as I gave her eye ridge a loving scratch. Whatever you can do is more than enough for me.

Other hands helped where my injured one could not. Goldie scrubbed the area between Tarnaa's wings while a couple of eager Weyr fosterlings worked on her flanks.

With a final rinse, Tarnaa moved up on shore, being careful not to dirty herself. Darla and D'ren were waiting, setting to work at once oiling Tarnaa's quickly drying hide. I was about to object but then realized they were merely showing their appreciation for what Ryeena and I had done for them and for Ista Weyr. Still, I couldn't let them do all the work. So, enlisting the aid of one of the fosterlings to apply the oil, I used my free hand to work it into Tarnaa's neck and face.

"There! That should do it!" D'ren announced, giving Tarnaa a final rub.

She gleamed from nose to tail, breathtaking and beautiful, my heart soaring with pride.

We are one, lifemate, she softly hummed as I hugged her neck, now and forever.

"You okay, John?" Darla asked.

Sometime during Tarnaa's oiling, my left hand had started tingling. A cross between goosebumps and having it fall asleep, the sensation wasn't unpleasant, just damned distracting.

"I think so," I replied, giving my hand a shake. "Now, I'd better get back to my lounge chair before Lessa ties me to it."

Supplies of freshly chopped meat were brought out; and Ryeena, J'ritt, and I bent to feeding our three beautiful, ravenous companions. Goldie and Bolter joined them, snatching globbets from the overfilled bowls. When at last the meat was gone, our lifemates and tiny friends sated, I returned to the shade of the lean-to while our dragons and fire lizards moved off to sun themselves.

"Mind if we sit with you, John?" Ryeena asked as I was settling back in the lounge chair.

My two Harper Hall friends joined me under the lean-to; our three dragons curled up comfortably nearby. I laughed, pointing to Goldie and Bolter perched atop our slumbering lifemates, themselves blissfully asleep.

Ryeena took my hand in hers, a warm smile on her face. "Did you ever think your life would turn out like this?" she asked, gesturing at the Weyr around us.

"Not in my wildest fantasies," I chuckled, shaking my head. "You?"

"No," she sighed, leaning back against the chair. "It's just that …"

"What?"

"I wish Uncle Gerrald and Auntie Nylene and the others could have been here," she sighed, giving my hand a squeeze.

"They could not be prouder of you than I am, Ryeena," I told her, squeezing her hand in return.

"You could send your fire lizards to them with a message," J'ritt suggested.

"Ryeena!" a young voice interrupted us.

Across the Weyr bowl, we spotted two wagons emerging from the tunnel road, creaking and rumbling under the pull of plodding herdbeasts. Ahead of them, a tiny figure was pelting our way, waving her arms furiously over her head.

"Trillene?!" Ryeena gasped, rising to her feet.

Holder Gerrald was in the lead wagon, Lady Nylene beside him. Mostef drove the second, one of the other children next to him. And, bringing up the rear, Varla entered astride her favorite runnerbeast.

"Well, go on!" I urged, nudging Ryeena with my foot.

Smiling then laughing, she took off, running to greet her cousin. They collided somewhere in the middle, laughing and rolling in the grass as they embraced each other.

Even at this distance, there was no mistaking the appalled look on Holder Gerrald's face. Given how he and his family revered dragonriders, I could well imagine the thoughts running through his mind. Still, their unexpected arrival was disturbing. Only two days had passed since the Hatching. Traveling by wagon, they could never have made the journey here from Misty Hold in so short a time. Something else must have brought them to the Benden region long before the Hatching, and they'd simply come here after hearing the news. But what could have been so serious that Holder Gerrald would have brought his entire family along?

The little caravan ground to a halt just beyond the tunnel entrance. The moment it did, the remaining children poured from the wagons, slowly turning around, gawking at the enormous wonder that was Benden Weyr.

Hand in hand, the two girls ran to meet them. Ryeena leaped at her uncle, throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him joyfully.

"Who's that?" J'ritt asked, nodding in their direction.

"Lady Nylene and Holder Gerrald," I replied. "Ryeena's aunt and uncle."

From where I sat, I noticed how everyone – except Trillene – kept a respectful distance from my young friend.

"You'd think they'd be overjoyed to see her," J'ritt commented, "like the little one there."

"Trillene's not the shy type," I chuckled.

"Then why …"

"She's a dragonrider now."

"Oh," J'ritt whispered, finally understanding.

Honor those the dragons heed, in thought and favor, word and deed.

Lines from one of the Teaching Ballads. Even the youngest dragonrider, it seems, was treated with honor and respect.

"John!" cried Trillene, embracing me warmly as she came running over. "Is it true? You really Impressed a queen?"

Nodding toward our slumbering friends, I said, "I'm afraid so."

"But I thought only girls …"

Grinning shyly, I told her, "So did I, but Tarnaa had other ideas." Changing the subject, I asked, "Trillene, how'd you all get here so quickly? By wagon, it should have taken you a couple of sevendays to reach Benden."

Her expression switched so suddenly from happy to sad, I felt an icy fist of dread close about my heart.

"What is it?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

"Gran'pa Vilser went between," she quietly told me, head hung in sadness.

"What?!" Ryeena gasped. "No! How? When?"

"Doing what he loved best," Holder Gerrald answered as he and the others approached.

"He was showing off one of those runnerbeasts he'd been raising," Trillene explained, taking Ryeena's hands in hers. "They were racing across the flats when the beast twisted a foot in a hole, breaking its leg, and throwing Gran'pa." Trillene was struggling to keep her emotions in check, holding back tears so she could tell her cousin the story. "He … broke his neck," she whispered, sniffling back a tear. "There was nothing they could do. Oh, Ryeena!"

The two girls hugged each other, both crying, sharing their grief over the loss of someone obviously very dear to them.

Awakened by her lifemate's distress, Sylene rushed over, shoving her way through Holder Gerrald's startled family. Reaching the two girls, she pressed her head between them, crooning worriedly.

Lifemate, what's wrong? she asked. Why are you sad?

"Hush, my love," Ryeena said, stroking her neck ridge. "It's alright."

Bolter arrived a scant breath later, landing on Ryeena's shoulder, trilling softly and sorrowfully, mourning her loss.

"Holder Gerrald, I am truly sorry to hear about the loss of your father," I said. "A loved one's parting is never easy. Please accept my most profound condolences."

A curt nod was his only reply.

Holder Gerrald and his family were strong believers in Pernese traditions, especially where dragonriders were concerned. His restraint around his niece was understandable, but his reaction to me seemed inexplicably strained.

"I wish I had known," Ryeena muttered, looking at Trillene. "I would have been there with you." Her expression brightening, she said, "It's so wonderful to see all of you again. I was just telling John how much I wished you'd been here for the Hatching!"

"We were on the road heading home when we heard the news," Trillene explained, smiling brightly once more, happy tears replacing sad ones. "First, actually meeting dragonriders, then a dragon healer, and now, a queen rider! Ryeena, we're so proud of you!"

"None of it would have happened if it hadn't been for John," my young friend said, nodding to me. "Did you know he can speak to any dragon?"

"What?!" Varla exclaimed, everyone staring at me. "You mean, like Weyrwoman Lessa?"

"Really?" Trillene gasped, bubbling with excitement. "Maybe that's why the little queen picked you!"

Maybe, I silently mused. Or was Manora right? Had Tarnaa really sensed the truth that lay in my heart?

The Weyr headwoman is very wise, lifemate, Tarnaa sent, her bejeweled eyes on me. Your heart is my heart. How could I not know it?

I'd have to remember to tell Manora that as I sent a loving mental caress to my dragon.

"Guess what else we discovered?" Ryeena asked, taking Trillene's hands.

"What?" her cousin wondered, clearly excited.

"Guess!"

Trillene searched her cousin's face, brow furrowed with confusion. Suddenly, eyes bugging out as her trembling hands covered her mouth, she gasped. "You can, too?!"

Grinning broadly, Ryeena nodded. This time, it was Holder Gerrald's turn to gasp in astonishment.

"You're serious?" Trillene asked, her face a mask of disbelief.

"Only my way's different from his," Ryeena explained, nodding to me.

"How?" Trillene wondered, quivering with excitement.

A shadow fell across the front of the lean-to, Holder Gerrald and his entire family letting out a collective gasp as Darla, D'ren, and Laneth approached.

"She must touch a dragon in order to speak with it," Darla explained.

"Everyone, this is Darla and D'ren from Ista Weyr," Ryeena said, introducing the two dragonriders.

"Then this must be Laneth!" Trillene concluded, boldly stepping up to Darla's queen.

"Sweetheart, no!" Nylene croaked, her face ashen with fright.

"It's alright," Darla assured her. "You're all more than welcome to look if you wish."

"All Pern is talking about her," Trillene said, her gaze roving across Laneth's golden hide as the others moved closer.

"She took her first flight since the accident just a short while ago," Darla told them, patting her queen's side.

"She can fly again?!" Trillene gasped, her surprise echoed by everyone from Misty Hold.

Darla and I locked eyes. I nodded.

"Show 'em, Laneth," my Istan friend said, pointing skyward.

With a powerful leap, her queen was instantly airborne, wings beating strongly. A quick circle of the Weyr bowl and she came to rest back where she'd started from.

"By the Egg of Faranth!" Trillene whispered, clearly in awe.

Slowly whirling eyes on Ryeena's cousin, Laneth lowered her foreleg within reach. The gesture was obvious, the meaning clear. Without a moment's hesitation, Trillene climbed the proffered leg, seizing the fighting straps and pulling herself astride Laneth's neck ridge before anyone could stop her. The visitors from Misty Hold could only stare in horrified dismay, appalled by such brazen disrespect. Darla smiled, charmed by the child's courage and daring.

A brave little one, Laneth rumbled, not minding in the least. Make a fine rider one day.

Surprised by her dragon's remark, Darla turned to Gerrald. "Has Trillene ever been Searched, good holder?"

The collective gasp from Ryeena's family let me know that none of them had forgotten that incredible evening with the High Reaches Weyrleaders … or the unexpected encounter with bronze Orth.

"Did I say something I shouldn't have?" Darla wondered, looking to me.

"No," I assured her, chuckling softly. "You see, not too long ago, Holder Gerrald and his family had the rare privilege of entertaining the High Reaches Weyrleaders in their home. Just before the dragonriders departed, Orth singled Trillene out, sensing in her the qualities to be a good rider."

"Are you saying Laneth feels the same way?" Ryeena inquired, excited by the possibility as she glanced up at her cousin.

"Then she belongs among dragonkind," Darla concluded. "Holder Gerrald, have you given any thought to fostering her out to a weyr?"

Trillene's startled gasp and hopeful expression told us she'd go in a heartbeat if given the chance!

"You'll have to find your own Hatching candidates, Darla," a familiar voice called out as several riders approached. "High Reaches has first claim on her."

"T'bor! Pilgra!" D'ren greeted them, clasping hands with his fellow riders.

"Sarina!" I exclaimed, delighted to recognize the third rider. "How are you and Aramith?"

"Very well, John," she said, giving my hand a companionable squeeze. "Thank you for asking."

"You're a long way from home, High Reaches," I commented. "What brings you all here?"

"You two," Pilgra answered, pointing to Ryeena and I.

"Us?" my young friend stammered.

"You haven't heard?" T'bor asked.

Ryeena and I shook our heads, professing our ignorance.

"Benden is hosting a feast tonight in your honor celebrating Laneth's recovery," T'bor explained, grinning broadly at our shocked expressions. "F'lar and Lessa have invited the Weyrleaders, the Lords Holder, and Craftmasters from all across Pern!"

"Lessa also asked us to fetch Ryeena's family for the celebration," Pilgra added. "When we dropped by Misty Hold, we discovered you were already in the Benden area, brought here by more somber matters."

"Holder Gerrald, on behalf of the riders from High Reaches, allow me to offer our sincerest condolences on the death of your father," T'bor said, offering his hand.

"Thank you, Weyrleader," Gerrald replied, shaking the offered hand. "My family and I are warmed and very grateful for your thoughtfulness."

"Uncle," Ryeena injected.

"Dragonrider," he answered, turning her way.

"Uncle, it's me, your niece, remember?"

"He knows, Ryeena," I interjected.

"But he …"

"Remember the Teaching Ballads you sang for me?" I asked, my eyes locking with hers. "Honor those the dragons heed, …"

"In thought and favor, word and deed," Trillene sang from high astride Laneth.

"Think, Ryeena," I said. "Isn't that what your uncle is doing now?"

"Then why was he so rude to you?" she demanded, pointing an accusing finger his way.

"Ryeena!" Nylene gasped.

"He was!" she persisted, glaring at her aunt. "Uncle thanked Weyrleader T'bor when he said he was sorry Gran'pa Vilser died." Turning angry eyes on her uncle, she added, "Yet, when John did the same thing, you practically ignored him. Why?"

"Why?!" Gerrald growled, stabbing a finger my way. "This is an abomination! A queen dragon should have a female rider, not him!"

"Sweetheart, please!" Nylene whispered, trying to calm her husband, nervously glancing about at the dragonriders.

"Do you honestly believe he wanted this?" Ryeena asked, incredulous, her arms akimbo. "Uncle, John tried to refuse Impression!"

"He what?!" T'bor stammered, everyone turning to stare at me.

"Is that true?" Sarina asked, clearly disbelieving.

"Of course, it's true!" Ryeena howled, stamping the ground in frustration. "Damn it, Uncle, John feels the same way you do about this!"

Gerrald backed up a step, surprised and shaken by his niece's unexpected fury.

"Weyrwoman Lessa herself told me how he tried to stop Tarnaa," she continued, fueled by her anger, "tried to get her to choose another, a female rider instead of him."

She stepped over beside me.

"You see this?" she asked, pointing to the bandages on my left arm. "Dragon bite wounds."

Unknown to anyone, the tingling in my hand was spreading, up to my shoulder now. I flexed the arm, trying to get some circulation into it.

"And this?" Ryeena continued, pulling back my tunic. "Three broken ribs."

"Bite wounds? Broken ribs?" Pilgra wondered aloud. "Shards and Shells, what happened at that Hatching?"

"Tarnaa," Ryeena replied, gesturing to the sleeping dragon. "While John was desperately trying to divert her, a woman came down from the tiers. Before anyone could stop her, she grabbed Tarnaa's head, staring into her eyes in an attempt to force Impression. But the little queen refused her and then nearly ripped the woman's throat out."

"Shards, no!" Sarina gasped, suddenly pale.

"Because of his gift, John sensed what Tarnaa was about to do," Ryeena explained. "He dove across the sands, barely managing to shove the woman aside as Tarnaa leaped at her."

"Ah, I see," T'bor mused, fingering the bandages on my arm.

"In place of the woman's throat," Sarina added, her eyes meeting mine, "she got your arm, instead."

"Then how'd he break his ribs?" Trillene called down from astride Laneth.

"When John and Tarnaa collided," Ryeena answered. "The impact sent them crashing to the sands, Tarnaa coming down on top of him."

Sarina winced, imagining the pain.

"We nearly lost the little queen right then," Ryeena continued.

"No!" Trillene gasped, horrified by the thought. "How?"

"I don't know all the details," Ryeena said. "At the time, I had my hands full with Sylene."

She looked to me for help.

"With your permission, Holder Gerrald," I said, turning to him.

He stared a moment, mouth agape, stunned that a dragonrider, much less a masterhealer, would ask his permission for anything. Slowly, he nodded.

"From the moment Tarnaa broke shell," I explained, "I felt her presence in my mind. The power was staggering. I couldn't shut her out no matter how hard I tried. And yet, in spite of its power, the link was very fragile. I was afraid that if I passed out or was drugged unconscious against the pain, Tarnaa would panic when the link was broken and go between."

That got a terrified gasp from everyone, even Gerrald.

"Fresh cut meat was everywhere in the Weyr bowl, but she wouldn't touch any of it," Ryeena continued the explanation, sweeping everyone with her gaze. "She was grief stricken over what she had done to her chosen lifemate."

"Despite his injuries, John could sense Tarnaa's strength slipping away," she said, coming to sit beside me. "If she didn't eat soon, she would die. But the only way she would accept food was if he gave it to her, and the only way she would do that …"

"Was if John accepted her," Trillene concluded, "accepted Impression."

"Yes," agreed Ryeena, smiling up at her cousin. "Uncle, don't you see? There was no choice. To save Tarnaa, John had to sacrifice himself. His sworn duty as a dragon healer demanded it."

Gerrald stood, unmoving, his face frozen in pained disbelief. "Ryeena, I …" he finally stammered, a look of entreaty in his eyes.

She ran to him, her own eyes tear-filled, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce embrace. "Oh, Uncle, I'm sorry," she sobbed, weeping against his chest. "I'm so sorry."

"Hush, child," he said, stroking her hair. "No tears. You always were one to speak your mind." Lifting her chin so their eyes would meet, he said, "We never heard the details of what actually happened, only the results. But you had the courage to stand by your friend and to help us understand. Your father and mother would have been proud of you, sweetheart, just as we are."

Sylene came over, nudging her head in between them, trilling love and affection to her lifemate. Startled by the dragon's sudden appearance, Gerrald glanced nervously at his niece, unsure what to do.

"Here," she said, taking his hand and placing it on Sylene's forehead. "Scratch here, just behind the eye ridges."

As he did, Sylene's eyes shaded to a beautiful blue-green; a quiet, contented hum rising from her throat. A smile of wonder slowly transformed Gerrald's uncertain expression.

"She is lovely," he finally said, turning to his niece, "just like her rider. Thank you for letting me share her with you, even if only for a moment."

Separating from his niece, Gerrald came over to me. He hesitated, his mouth working slightly.

"Is something wrong, Holder Gerrald?" I calmly asked.

"Forgive me, but I'm not certain how to address you," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment. "Do I call you Masterhealer or Dragonrider?"

"My friends usually just call me John," I replied, extending my hand. "At least, I hope we're still friends."

Gerrald took the offered hand, sighing with relief.

"John, I … I'm sorry about …"

"No need for apologies, Holder Gerrald," I assured him. "After all the time I spent at your cot, how could I not know how you felt about dragonriders? Besides, who could have guessed how things would turn out that day?"

Everyone nodded agreement.

Then, smiling, I added, "I'm just sorry you missed all the excitement!"

Everyone burst out laughing.

"Judging by what you've just told us," Gerrald replied, grinning broadly, "I'm glad we did. Shells, what a confusing mess that must have been!"

"If John and I had known what was going to happen," Ryeena added, smiling at me, "we may well have stayed at the Harper Hall."

"Fortunately for all concerned, you decided to come," Lessa broke in as she and F'lar finally arrived. "Welcome, Holder Gerrald, to you and your family."

"Thank you, Weyrwoman," he responded, bowing to her. "My family and I were deeply honored to be invited."

"She certainly is a brave one," Lessa commented, eyeing Trillene high astride Laneth.

"Takes after her cousin, Weyrwoman," Gerrald said, winking at Ryeena.

"Uncle!" she groaned, poking him playfully in the shoulder.

"Laneth thinks she'd make a fine rider one day," Darla remarked, patting her dragon.

"Really?" Lessa said, smiling as she looked up at Trillene.

Glancing at his wife, Gerrald gently squeezed her hand. She nodded, knowing without words what he was about to say.

"So, little one, do you think you'd enjoy living with the weyrfolk at High Reaches?"

Her answer was a squeal of delight as she dove off Laneth, seizing her father about the neck as he caught her effortlessly.

"You mean it?" she cried, jumping up and down amidst anxious and envious looks from the other hold children. "I can go with them?"

"Best ask Weyrleader T'bor if it's alright," Gerrald told her, turning his youngest to face the dragonrider.

Slowly, tentatively, Trillene stepped up to him, her manner uncharacteristically timid.

"Weyrleader," she began, giving a brief curtsy.

"Trillene," he responded, nodding to her. "Are you certain this is what you want, child?"

"Oh, yes, Weyrleader!" she gushed, struggling not to fidget in her excitement. "For as long as I can remember!"

T'bor remained silent, eyeing this tiny bundle of barely contained energy. Trillene's face lit up, her excitement building as Orth lumbered over.

"What do you think, old friend?" the High Reaches Weyrleader asked. "Should we take her in?"

The massive bronze brought his head closer, whuffling Trillene up and down. She remained as motionless as stone, her eyes fixed on him.

Still as strong as before, T'bor's dragon rumbled as he pulled back slightly. Maybe more so now.

As Laneth had done earlier, Orth offered Trillene his foreleg. This time, however, she hesitated, glancing over at his rider. When T'bor nodded, it was like releasing a spring. With an excited squeal and a grin ear-to-ear, Trillene reached the proffered foreleg in a single leap. A second one and she had the fighting straps in her hands. As if she had done it all her life, Trillene was quickly astride the High Reaches bronze.

"Completely fearless around dragons," Lessa commented, eyeing the child. "She should do very well at High Reaches."

"Does that mean I can go?!" Trillene gasped, her desire almost painful to behold.

"Orth doesn't let just anyone ride him," T'bor replied, grinning broadly up at her. "Yes, child, you are more than welcome at High Reaches!"

Reaching down, Trillene patted Orth's neck, saying, "Thank you." Then, turning to his rider, she asked, "When can we go?"

How about now? the bronze rumbled.

T'bor, Lessa, and I burst out laughing, caught up in Trillene's infectious excitement.

"Precious child," T'bor chuckled, slapping his lifemate on the side, "Orth would take you there this very instant. But then, you'd both miss out on the marvelous feast Benden has prepared to honor your cousin and her friend. Don't worry, child. You'll get there soon enough."

The High Reaches Weyrleader caught her as she slid down Orth's side. With another quick curtsy to him, Trillene turned and ran to her father.

"Thank you, Papa," she wept, burying her head against him, her arms hugging him tightly.

"Best thank John, sweetheart," he told her, lifting her chin. "If not for his getting caught out during Threadfall, Weyrwoman Pilgra would never have rescued him, and we would never have had the chance to welcome the High Reaches Weyrleaders to our home … or find out just how truly special you are."

"Coincidence, Masterhealer?" Lessa asked, a wicked sparkle in her eyes.

"Come now, Weyrwoman," I responded, grinning wolfishly. "You don't honestly believe I planned it that way, do you?"

"Perhaps not," F'lar chuckled, giving his weyrmate a hug, "but remarkable things do seem to happen whenever you're around."

"Like now, for instance," Pilgra said, moving over next to Bellar. "Lessa, a while back, you told me you were considering taking in a fosterling of your own now that F'lessan is at Southern. What about this young lad?"

"Me?!" Bellar gasped, backing up a step.

"Orth!" T'bor called, waving his bronze over.

"See what you think, Laneth," Darla added.

The two great dragons scrutinized the young lad, whuffling him up and down. At one point, I thought Bellar might mess himself, but he managed to summon his courage and stood perfectly still.

Nearly as strong as the little one, T'bor's bronze finally rumbled.

Make a good rider, Laneth agreed.

Her sparkling eyes the only clue to her excitement, Lessa turned to me and said, "You spent time with Holder Gerrald and his family, John. Think this lad can withstand the rigors of weyr life?"

"Life in a weyr, any weyr, is certainly no Gather dance," I responded, my eyes never leaving Bellar. "There will be many challenges, many hardships to overcome, not the least of which will be homesickness. Living in a weyr brings certain honors but also many responsibilities. I have seen how this lad has faced many similar challenges working on his father's cothold helping the family till the land and bring in the crops. He is no stranger to hard work and has shown good judgment when dealing with responsibilities. I think he will do well here at Benden."

"Orth thinks you have rider potential, lad," T'bor added, clapping him on the back.

"So does Laneth," Darla told him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"What better place to explore that potential than in a weyr, eh, lad?" F'lar asked.

"It's up to you, Bellar," Lessa said, standing before him. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Nervous and uncertain, he glanced over at his parents. They were smiling, hugging each other, nodding to him.

"Go on, Bellar," Trillene urged him, standing beside T'bor. "You've always said you wanted to live in a weyr. Now's your chance!"

The lad from Misty Hold turned back to Lessa, sinking to one knee, his head bowed to her.

"I thought never to be so honored, Weyrwoman," he finally said, a solitary tear sliding down his cheek as he looked up at her. "I … I promise I will make you proud of me."

Offering her hand, Lessa helped him stand.

"I will make you all proud of me," he added, eyes only for his mother and father.

"We've always been proud of you, sweetheart," his mother wept as the three of them embraced, "never more so than now!"

"Come, then," F'lar urged everyone, gesturing to the Living Caverns. "We have much to celebrate this day!"

The party Benden put together rivaled the best Gathers I'd ever been to! Riders from Ista put on a breathtaking aerial display for all the guests. The best Harpers from all across Pern entertained the crowd. And, for Ryeena and I, a seemingly endless stream of congratulations for what we had done for Darla and Laneth.

What no one knew, however, was that the strange tingling that had started in my arm and spread to my shoulder had now moved throughout my entire body. Did it have anything to do with the bite Tarnaa had inflicted on me? Or, in my eagerness to fulfill my new responsibilities to her, could I have unwittingly contracted some illness while down at the weyr lake?

Are you well, Lifemate? Tarnaa hummed, nuzzling my arm.

Goldie, too, sensed something was wrong, her eyes a worried shade of orange as she headstroked my cheek.

"What is it, John?" Lessa asked, coming up beside me.

Brekke soon arrived, F'nor and F'lar in tow. She, like Lessa, must have overheard my dragon's concern.

"Not sure," I confessed, stroking Goldie's neck ridge. "Kind of tingly all over."

"When did it start?" Brekke wondered.

"Down by the lake while I was bathing Tarnaa," I replied, giving my dragon a hug. "You don't think I've accidentally caught something, do you?"

"Hmm, doesn't sound like any illness I've ever heard of," Brekke remarked, stroking the soft line of her chin. "Oldive's here. Let me check with him."

Arm in arm with F'nor, the two headed off to find the Masterhealer.

"How do you feel, otherwise?" F'lar asked.

Shrugging, I sighed, "That's just it. I feel fine except for this damned tingling!"

"What about your ribs?" Lessa solicited, gently placing her hand over the bandage.

"Just a minor ache," I replied.

"Think you could do 'Keymon's Song' while we wait?" Lessa asked, inclining her head toward the platform of Harpers and their instruments.

I nodded then mounted the steps. Sensing what was coming, the gathered dragons took wing, ranging themselves along the rim of the Weyr Bowl, their eyes red with anticipation. The fire lizards reacted, too, rising to their haunches, waiting.

Relax. Remember to breathe, I reminded myself, trying to recall everything Master Shonagar had taught me.

Silence fell across the gathered crowd as the opening notes of the song were played. Drawing a deep breath at the proper time, I opened my mouth and let the words and melody flow. Soon, the air was throbbing with the combined voices of all the dragons. The platform beneath me shook from the vibrations of so many voices joined in song.

On the third verse, a lighter, sweeter voice joined mine, blending in a beautiful harmony with my own melody. I smiled when I realized it was J'ritt. He'd certainly learned the Kendite language well.

On the fourth stanza, yet another voice joined the chorus. I nearly faltered, my heart close to bursting with pride at the sight of Tarnaa back on her haunches, trilling delicately along with the rest of us.

But as the fifth and final verse drew to a close, a new sound, pained and discordant, ripped the air asunder.

"Yaaaaaaahhh!" I screamed, one hand on my throat, the other on my head as I collapsed in a heap on the platform.

Tarnaa's frightened howl was matched, decibel for decibel, by Goldie's terrified cry as she took wing.

"John, what is it?" Lessa asked, instantly at my side.

"A dragon!" I gasped, my breathing ragged. "Hurt! Falling! Dying!"

Tarnaa managed to scrabble up onto the platform, trilling worriedly as she nuzzled my face. Goldie circled above, crying in alarm.

"Lifemate!" I muttered, echoing the cry in my head. "I don't want to die!"

"Whose?" Lessa asked, giving my shoulder a shake. "Whose dragon?"

"So far away," I muttered, barely aware of Lessa's presence, other dragonriders drawing closer. "So cold."

"Ramoth, can you sense any dragons in trouble?" Lessa called out.

No, lifemate. I sense no danger.

"John, whose dragon is in trouble?" Silvina asked, a gentle hand on my arm. "Where is it?"

Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on the voice I heard. "Come, friend," I whispered, calling out with my mind at the same time. "We can help you!"

The pain and fear grew stronger. I cried out, writhing in its grip.

"John, tell us, please!" Lessa begged, her tone frightened.

Abruptly, I sat up, eyes wide, pointing to the Weyr lake. "There!"

A queen suddenly materialized above its surface, dropping with a tremendous splash into the waters. At almost the same instant, the pain and fear eased, and I rose unsteadily to my feet.

"Hurry!" I croaked, stumbling down the steps of the platform.

F'lar and N'ton each took an arm, practically carrying me down to the lake. Several of the gathered dragons were already there, wings beating powerfully as they struggled to lift the new arrival to shore. As we drew closer, many of the dragonriders gasped, their faces suddenly ashen, eyes threatening to pop from their skulls. Shaking free of F'lar and N'ton, I stepped over to the queen.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I exclaimed. "This isn't Threadscore!"

Blood gushed from numerous ragged tears in the queen's neck. Frantically, I shed my jerkin then stripped off my tunic, my ribs completely forgotten. Dragon blood splashed all over me as I shoved the fabric into one of the gaping rips in the queen's neck, trying to stanch the spurting flow.

"No, it can't be!" Brekke whimpered, pale as Death as she came up beside me.

The wounded queen rolled her head to one side, the eye facing us barely focusing.

Lifemate?

"Lifemate?!" I gasped, staring at Brekke.

"Wirenth?" she whispered, one trembling hand rising toward the queen.

Lifemate! the queen crooned again, her love and longing unmistakable.

Brekke fainted, F'nor barely reaching her side in time to catch her.

"This can't be!" the brown rider croaked, cradling his weyrmate.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I gasped, whirling to stare at the massive queen, murmurs of disbelief sweeping through the crowd.

THE DREAM!

"I need more cloth!" I shouted, drenched with dragon blood as I pressed my chest against several other gashes in the queen's flesh, my hands covering a few smaller ones.

Soon, dragonriders, craftmasters, and holders alike were following my lead. Tunics of all fabrics and hues found their way into my hands. I discarded most of them, the materials too rough or too soiled to use. But even stuffed to bursting, the tears in the queen's flesh continued to bleed, fueled by the torn arteries.

"I need my surgical kit!" I cried out, my eyes never leaving the queen as Manora and several other Benden weyrfolk arrived with bolts of gauze fabric to use as compresses over the wounds.

"I know where it is," Oldive said, seizing F'lessan's arm. "Can you take me to the Healer Hall?"

"Done!" the bronze rider said, whistling for his dragon as he moved off through the crowd with the Masterhealer.

Dragon friends, help me! I soundlessly cried as the queen's blood continued to pour across my body. Lend your strength to Wirenth. Calm her. Reassure her. Slow her frantic heart before she bleeds to death!

Instantly, the Weyr bowl filled with a penetrating drone, the gathered dragons humming to one of their own. Love and affection filled the air, all of it for Wirenth. I could feel her pulse slow, the flow of her precious blood ease.

Suddenly, one of the plugs gave way, drenching me with a sudden gush of dragon blood. Caught by surprise, some of the warm green fluid went down my throat before I even realized it. The rest made me cough and gag. I was green from head to toe, not a single inch of me untouched. Worse, I could feel the warm fluid burning like fire in the bite wounds of my arm. I tried to ignore it, but the feeling began to spread, moving up my arm into my chest.

"John, we have needle and thread ready," Manora informed me.

Reaching out, I felt a needle slapped into my hand. Blinking dragon blood from my eyes, I set to work at once, desperately trying to repair the rended flesh. There was so much blood I couldn't see what I was working on. Instead, I was relying on Tarnaa's dragon sight, using her eyes to guide my hands, all the while praying to my revered ancestors that I was piecing the sections together properly.

Lifemate, what is wrong? Tarnaa asked as the burning continued to spread, making me nauseous, dizzy, and feverish.

Circling somewhere above, Goldie cried in alarm, sensing my growing peril.

I couldn't answer either of my winged friends. There was no time. Unlike Laneth, this queen would die in seconds if I couldn't repair the damage. So, I forced all other concerns aside, focusing solely on the task at hand. Miraculously, I managed to close the rend in one of the major arteries. Rinsing the wound out with some water, I could see the fleshy pipe that carried the dragon's blood pulsing with life but no leaks. Then, with a speed born of desperation, I sutured the overlying flesh closed. But the burning inside me continued to spread. My whole body seemed afire, making it difficult to stand, my arms and legs growing sluggish.

Lifemate, stop! Tarnaa worriedly trilled, nuzzling my arm. You will go between if you don't!

"John, what is it?" Lessa asked, a restraining hand on my arm. "What's wrong?"

"Water," I groaned, leaning against the injured queen's side.

Several buckets were brought. I lifted each overhead, dousing myself with its contents. The coolness helped, easing some of my discomfort.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning, I met the gaze of Master Oldive.

"Your instruments are ready," he said, gesturing to a table that had been brought out, my surgical kit laid out on top.

I didn't waste a moment. With proper tools, at last, I was able to clamp off the bleeding arteries then suture the damaged ends together. Once or twice, a repaired section would spring a leak, but, with a few additional stitches, I managed to get all the damaged arteries and veins repaired and the torn flesh sutured back into place. Other hands took over then, cleansing the wounds and slathering on numbweed.

Sweat poured from my brow, my whole body afire. I staggered into the lake, as much to rinse myself off as to cool the fire that threatened to consume me. Dizzy, I fell face first into the water.

LIFEMATE! Tarnaa howled in alarm, diving into the lake after me.

Thankfully, swift hands were nearby, lifting me off of Tarnaa's neck as she held me above water to keep me from drowning.

"Quickly! Get him back to bed!" Lessa ordered, strong hands carrying me away from the lake.

Feverish, delirious, my body wracked with pain, my consciousness finally surrendered to the black embrace of oblivion.


	24. Chapter 24 - Dragon Eyes

Chapter 24

 _Dragon Eyes_

"TARNAA! COME BACK!" I cried out, struggling against swirling, insubstantial mists that were somehow pushing us apart. "MY HEART, DON'T LEAVE ME!"

 _I will always be with you, lifemate,_ she said, _no matter how far apart we may be._

The mists closed in, obscuring my vision. When they parted, she was gone!

"NO!" I cried, feeling suddenly, terribly bereft.

 _Do not be afraid. I am here._

A larger, older queen stepped through the swirling mists.

"Who are you?" I demanded, backing away.

 _Your heart,_ the queen rumbled, her eyes purple amethysts of love.

"NO!" I howled, collapsing to my knees, assailed by an inexplicable, mind-numbing sense of loss.

Delirious, ravaged by fever, I tossed and turned, sweat oozing from every pore. Once in a while, through that fevered delirium, I thought I heard someone speak to me, their words reassuring, the tone soothing. Occasionally, something would be pressed to my lips, and then the nightmares would fade, leaving only dreamless nothing.

Suddenly, many hands pawed me. Startled, I looked up into a ring of faces, both dragons and riders. Bronzes all, their eyes were awhirl in a bloody crimson hue. Their riders moved closer, eyeing me hungrily. I tried backing away but found myself surrounded. Stumbling, I fell. The riders pounced, pinning me to the ground. The faces closed in, suffocating me. I screamed!

"Easy," someone urged, gently pushing me back. "It's okay. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you. Just relax."

Trembling violently, dripping with sweat, I suddenly realized I couldn't see or move my left hand.

"Whoa, hold on!" my mysterious companion urged, seizing my hands as I reached up to remove whatever was covering my eyes. "You'll hurt yourself if you tear out that I.V. Don't worry about the bandages. It's just a precaution. Try and rest until we can have Master Oldive take a look at you, okay?"

My eyes … bandaged? An I.V.? Why?

A cool compress was placed on my forehead, then my unseen companion began sponging me down with more cool water. It felt so wonderful that I sighed with relief.

Something nudged my hand, and I heard, _Lifemate!_ , love and longing in every syllable.

"Tarnaa?" I croaked, my throat parched and sore as I reached out to give her head a scratch.

The moment I touched her, I knew something was wrong. Her head was much larger than I remembered, sending chills racing up and down my spine.

Another nudge, something smaller caressing my cheek, trilling sweetly. "Goldie!" I wept, a trembling hand pressing her tiny head to mine.

"Just lie still," my human companion advised, replacing the compress on my head with another cooler one. "I think the worst is finally over."

That voice!

"Brekke?" I managed to whisper.

"Yes," she replied, dabbing the cool sponge all over my face.

In a breath-taking rush, it all came back. The celebration! The wounded queen!

"Wirenth?" I asked, my voice quavering with the effort to speak.

"Alive!" Brekke sobbed, her trembling hand pressed against my cheek. "Thanks to you, dragon healer."

A deeper rumbling, and something gently nuzzled my shoulder. _Thank you, friend,_ her queen hummed.

"But how?" I asked, each word painful. "I thought …"

"No one knows," Brekke replied, blotting my face with the sponge. "We've been anxiously waiting all this time for you to recover in hopes that you could tell us."

All this time? I didn't like the sound of that.

"Water," I croaked, my throat painfully dry.

Brekke lifted a cup to my lips, urging me to go slowly. I did as she asked. My throat was so sore I couldn't take more than a little at a time.

"How long?" I finally asked, the parchness eased somewhat.

"You've been in and out of a coma for the last seven months," she replied, changing the compress on my forehead, the welcome coolness an instant relief. "Everyone's been worried sick you wouldn't pull through."

"Seven months?!" I tried to say, but my long unused throat reduced it to a cracking hiss.

With the fingers of my free hand, I gently traced the spot where the I.V. needle had been inserted into the vein on the back of my left hand. Now things were beginning to make sense. My hand had been immobilized by some sort of splint to keep me from hurting myself.

"Master Oldive's idea," Brekke told me. "He pulled it out of one of AIVAS' old archives. It was the only way we could get nourishment into you to keep you alive."

"Sorry," I muttered, settling back on the rushes. "Didn't mean to be a bother."

"Don't be sorry," Brekke said, wiping my arms down with the sponge. "You did what you've always done since you arrived on Pern: gave of yourself to help others."

Tarnaa gently nudged my cheek with her head, trilling softly, reassuringly.

Seven months. No wonder her head seemed so much larger. While I'd been abed wracked with fever, she had kept on growing.

Footsteps approached, the sounds echoing strangely.

"Go get some rest, Brekke," the new arrival spoke. "Laneth and I will keep watch for awhile."

"Darla?" I croaked.

"Came to a few minutes ago," Brekke explained, answering her fellow rider's startled gasp.

"Just lie still, dragonrider," my Istan friend said, pressing my shoulder down.

 _Rest, friend,_ Laneth added. _You are safe._

Something growled, loud and long. At first, I couldn't place the source. Then, it growled again, and I suddenly realized it was my stomach, my human companions breaking at once into a fit of giggles.

"Some broth, I think," Brekke chuckled, patting my arm. "I don't think we should try anything more substantial until you've recovered a bit more. I'll have someone bring some back from the kitchen while I send word to the Healer Hall."

"Just be sure to get some rest yourself," Darla urged her. "You look worn to a woof, and Wirenth needs you."

I heard F'nor's weyrmate move off, her dragon scrabbling along behind her. Then, once more, I felt the damp coolness of the sponge on my arms and face.

"Darla, …"

"Ssshh!" she hissed, pressing a finger to my lips. "Don't talk. Just rest. Sleep if you can."

I felt weight on my legs, a pleasant warmth spreading through the sleeping fur.

 _Sleep, lifemate,_ Tarnaa hummed, the vibration resonating through my thighs.

I did, the fever dreams gone at last.

Drifting in and out of sleep, I lost all track of time. The I.V. was removed now that I had finally returned to consciousness. While I was awake, broth was provided, quieting the gnawing in my stomach.

During one such feeding, several people entered. Darla backed away, and then I felt someone's hands on my forehead and wrist.

"How do you feel?" Master Oldive inquired, setting my wrist on the bed.

"Awful for being such a bother," I managed.

Almost at once, I knew something was wrong. My voice sounded strange to my ears. And, as I thought about it, no one had yet called me by name, either.

"I mean physically," he chuckled, removing the compress from my forehead.

"Weak," I confessed, "kind of frail."

"You've lost nearly half your body mass," Oldive informed me, eliciting a startled gasp. "Now, lie still. I'm going to remove the bandages from your eyes."

I felt his gentle hands on my head and the dressings slowly began to unwind.

"Keep your eyes closed," he instructed, holding the pads in place. "Silvina, dim all the glows but one."

The Harper Hall headwoman had come with him? I heard her rustling about the room, heard the tiny 'Clunk!' as the glow shields were closed.

"Ready," she quietly spoke.

"Alright now," Oldive instructed me, gently removing the pads, "slowly … open your eyes."

I did. At first, all I could make out were indistinguishable grays and blacks. Blinking a few times, the shadows gradually resolved into faces. Sobs escaped my throat with my first glimpse of Tarnaa. How much bigger she had grown in those seven months. Her eyes were purple amethysts, the love she radiated bringing tears to my eyes. Then, Goldie, the shade of her eyes anxious as she nuzzled my cheek, trilling softly how much she had missed me. Tears fell like rain as I hugged her tiny head to me.

I looked up at the other faces around me: Master Oldive and Silvina from the Harper Hall; Darla and her queen Laneth from Ista. There was a partially unshielded glow on the table beside the bed, yet the room did seem rather bright. Unexpectedly, Silvina gasped.

"What is it?" I asked, puzzled by her frightened expression. "What's wrong?"

Oldive bent closer, scrutinizing my face.

"Master, what is it?" I begged. "Tell me!"

"Fellis, please," he said, turning to Silvina.

She handed a mug to him, the same I'd been taking broth from.

"Drink this," he quietly said, lifting my head slightly with his other hand.

"No!" I cried, slapping the cup away. "Not until you … tell … me …"

My protest died aborning as I stared at my hand. I didn't recognize it! Small, thin, one could even say feminine. I brought the other up and gasped, sitting bolt upright, Goldie squealing in alarm. It was just like the first! I felt a weight shift on my chest and looked down, nearly choking on my heart as it leaped to my throat. Something, no, two somethings, were pushing the fabric of my sleep shirt out. Hands trembling, I brushed first one then the other. It was no illusion. Goldie nudged my cheek, fearful and uncertain. I touched my throat with one hand but it was gone, the prominent cartilage every man has. The other hand reached beneath the sleeping fur and down between my legs. Gone, too.

A hand mirror appeared in front of me. Silvina was holding it out, nodding for me to take it.

"You may as well know the whole of it," she quietly said.

With trembling hands, I took the mirror and gazed at my reflection. A terrified young woman stared back, and her eyes … the irises were yellow, the same shade as frightened dragons!

"No … NO!" I wailed, flinging the mirror away.

I didn't see where it landed, but I heard it shatter all the same. Violent tremors shook my greatly diminished body, and I hugged myself, sobbing all the while.

 _Do not be sad, lifemate,_ Tarnaa hummed as she lovingly nuzzled my face. _Now you are as you should have been all along!_

Goldie, too, tried to console me, trilling softly from my shoulder as she head-caressed my cheek. Spirits of my ancestors, what had happened to me?

The bed shifted. Turning, I found Silvina sitting beside me.

"Drink," she softly ordered, pressing the mug into my trembling hands. "It's wherry broth."

I was shaking so badly, Silvina had to guide the mug to my lips. I took a sip … and nearly gagged on the bitter fellis.

"Drink," she said again, more insistently. "The broth will nourish you, but you need sleep as well."

Common sense reasserted itself. Silvina was only trying to help. Fighting the trembling, with her help I managed to tip the mug back, downing the draft in a few gulps.

"Lie down," she quietly urged, gently pressing me back onto the rushes.

The fellis was already starting to work as she tucked the sleeping fur in around my shoulders.

"Rest now," she whispered, planting a kiss on my forehead.

 _Rest, lifemate,_ Tarnaa hummed, laying her head across my waist. _I am here. You are safe._

Goldie added her own assurances, trilling softly in my ear and nuzzling my cheek.

That was my last conscious awareness before the fellis swept me away.

Some time later, a growing pressure in my bladder woke me. Opening my eyes, I looked around. This wasn't K'van's old sleep chamber. It was much too spacious. One of the junior queen's weyrs?

The pressure inside me grew more insistent. Throwing back the sleeping fur, I slung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. Then, I remembered.

I looked at my hands, felt the soft, supple skin of my arms. I held each leg out in front of me. Long, elegant, very shapely; definitely feminine. I cupped each breast, feeling the weight of them in my hands. Finally, I felt my face. Smooth, not a hint of stubble.

Tarnaa lay curled up on the floor on the other side of the bed. Tears came anew to my eyes as I stared at her, still not believing how much she had grown in those seven months. I had missed so much … caring for her, feeding her, watching her grow, a lifetime of memories lost forever.

Goldie was still asleep, curled up in a ball on my pillow. Quietly, I reached over and scratched her eye ridge. Even in her sleep, she crooned with delight. Then I had no time for further distractions because the pressure inside me was becoming painful.

Grabbing a bedpost to steady myself, I tried to stand. Weak from lack of use, my legs gave way, and I sank back onto the rushes. The second try I managed to remain upright. I took a few tentative steps, using the post for balance as I reacquainted my weakened legs with walking, then I let go. Slowly, haltingly, I made my way toward the necessary. Once or twice, I thought I was going to fall, but after an endless eternity, I finally made it.

Pulling my sleep shirt up, I sat, gratefully, and relieved myself. It was an odd sensation. Just how completely had I been transformed? Was I really what I now appeared to be … a woman?

The pressure relieved, I got up, opened a couple of the glowbaskets, and looked at myself in the mirror. The tired, gaunt figure looking back was pitiful to behold. And the eyes! They were orange now, uncertain, not the yellow of fright.

 _Just like a dragon's eyes,_ I silently realized, gently fingering my cheeks. _Spirits of my ancestors, what's happened to me?_

Still, as I examined myself more closely in the mirror, I felt certain that with proper food, this new me would flesh out well. Thin but nicely proportioned, maybe even pretty.

The sound of trickling water drew my attention. Pushing back a curtain, I peered beyond to a fair sized chamber cloaked in shadows. Finding the glowbaskets, I opened them, filling the room with light.

 _The bathing pool_ , I realized.

Steam rose gently, invitingly from the waist-high pool. There were towels and even a bottle of sweetsand on the ledge beckoning to me.

 _Oh, what the heck,_ I thought, the sleep shirt I'd been wearing slipping off my shoulders to the floor.

Carefully, because I was still terribly weak, I eased my weary, aching body into the pool, luxuriating in the warmth of the spring-fed waters.

"Stars, this is marvelous!" I sighed, leaning back against the side of the pool, the water up to my neck.

Recalling my woebegone appearance in the mirror, I reached over and uncorked the bottle of sweetsand, scrubbing myself all over until my flesh tingled. Then, I lathered up my hair. Stars, it must reach nearly to my shoulder blades, I realized. Feeling a whole lot better, I leaned back, basking in the warmth of the pool.

"Is there room for one more?"

Startled by the unexpected sound, I jerked upright, the water in the pool sloshing over the edge.

"Darla!" I gasped, one hand over my heart. "Jays! You scared the life out of me!"

"Then we're even," she said, grinning. "When I woke and found your bed empty …"

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I didn't mean to worry you. It's just that all that broth wanted out."

Darla's laughter echoed off the walls of the chamber. The best I could manage was an embarrassed grin.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what?" I wondered, a bit confused.

"Is there room for one more?"

"You mean … you … and me …" I stammered, glancing first at the slightly steaming water then back at her.

"Why not?" she shrugged. "It's just us girls. No need to be shy."

"Darla, I don't know," I stammered, gazing at the water, not at her; an unexpected warmth filling my face that had nothing to do with the steaming water. "I mean I …"

"Still not sure, hmm?" she remarked, understanding in her eyes. "Never mind. Take all the time you need. I'll come back when you're finished."

"No, wait!" I begged, waving her back. "Don't go yet, please!"

She paused at the curtain, turning my way.

"Darla," I haltingly began, eyes downcast, "my … transformation … how much of it did you see?"

"Every single day," she replied, drawing closer. "At first, we thought the fever was merely burning off fat and muscle tissue. But then, we began to notice the more subtle changes … the softening of your face, the lengthening of your hair, the narrowing of your waist and widening of your hips."

"And my …" I added, glancing down.

"Yeah, them, too."

Silence fell across the room; each of us too embarrassed to speak.

"No wonder no one was calling me by name," I whispered. Looking up at my Istan friend, I asked, "Do you really think I'm a … a …"

"A woman now?" Darla finished for me.

I nodded, nibbling on my lower lip.

 _You have always been one, lifemate,_ Tarnaa interjected, poking her head through the doorway. _It just took a while for the rest of you to catch up._

Breath catching, my face turned a mortified and very shocking crimson.

"Does Tarnaa think so?" Darla asked, drawing the obvious conclusion.

Gulping loudly, I nodded, eyes on the water.

Laneth's rider came over, a gentle hand lifting my chin. "Do you think it's true?"

"I … I …"

"Be honest with yourself, Masterhealer," she told me, her gentle hand on my cheek.

I burst into tears.

 _Lifemate!_ Tarnaa rumbled, her tone suddenly anxious.

She tried getting closer but had grown so much she couldn't fit through the small opening to the bathing pool. Goldie circled above me, trilling soothingly, trying to calm me down.

I felt arms around me, drawing me close. Unseen through all my tears, Darla had removed her clothes and slipped into the pool. She held me, my head resting on her shoulder as I sobbed uncontrollably.

"Ssshhh!" she quietly hissed, rocking me back and forth. "It's okay. Everything will be alright.

 _Lifemate, don't be sad,_ Tarnaa worriedly hummed, still struggling to enter the room.

Darla did little else, just held me and rocked me until I'd cried myself out. When I finally pulled back from her, she was smiling, nodding encouragingly.

"There now, feel better?" she asked, squeezing my hands.

I nodded, wiping a final tear from my eyes.

 _Lifemate?_ Tarnaa trilled, concern radiating from her.

"I'm alright, my heart," I assured her, my love for her in every word.

"Thank you, Darla," I said, squeezing her hands in heartfelt appreciation.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

"I think so," I sighed. "Who I used to be was all I had left of my old life. With that gone, I suddenly felt so helpless, lost, and adrift. I hadn't realized it would be so hard to let go, to say goodbye."

Gasping, I stared past the curtain to the room beyond.

"What's wrong?" Darla wondered, following my gaze.

"My blaster!" I exclaimed, collapsing back against the side of the pool. "I won't be able to use it anymore!"

"But it's attuned to you, isn't it?" Darla asked.

"To who I used to be," I muttered, thrashing the water helplessly. "I don't dare use it now."

Darla took my hands in hers, smiling warmly at me.

"Do you remember that night at Misty Hold when you told Silvina and N'ton you didn't think the time was right," she asked, "that you needed to see more of Pern before deciding where you might fit in our society?"

I nodded, wondering in the same breath how she knew about that.

"Haven't you wondered why you felt so compelled to unravel the mystery of the missing Pern colony in the first place?" she continued. "Or why you had all those premonitions? Or why you found yourself so acutely attuned to dragons and their tiny cousins? Or why you felt it necessary to come to this forsaken world so far from everywhere?"

I stared at Darla, dazed and confused in spite of her obvious excitement.

"Don't you see?" she asked, squeezing my hands and pumping them up and down. "Some unseen hand guided you to us so that you could fulfill your true destiny as a queen-riding dragon healer!"

"But, Darla," I stammered.

"How else can you explain your being in just the right place when Laneth and I needed you most?" she suggested. "What other non-rider could have guided T'ledon and Serith so precisely into the dining room of the Harper Hall during Threadfall? And how do you explain your calling Wirenth from _between_ , bringing her to the one person on all of Pern who could save her life?"

I stared at my Istan friend, jaw hanging open, realization stealing my voice away. Stars above, could she be right?

"The past is gone," Darla said, sliding over beside me, "but a wondrous future lies before you. You're a queen rider now, one of those rare few who can speak to all dragons. You're also a highly gifted dragon healer unlike any we have known before. Why, I'll wager the harpers will be telling the tales of how you saved Laneth and T'ledon and Wirenth long after the two of us are dust!"

I chuckled in spite of myself, Darla grinning along with me.

"Embrace the future, Masterhealer," she told me, a firm hand on my shoulder, "and the life you have made for yourself here with us on Pern. We need you."

The last of my shyness around my Istan friend vanished, and I reached over and hugged her gratefully.

"Thanks, Darla," I said, a warm smile for her.

"You're welcome," she replied. "Now, how about scrubbing down my back so we can both get out of here before we turn all pruney?"

Laughing, I reached for the sweetsand.

When at last we were both clean, Darla and I climbed out and toweled off. After fluffing our hair dry, I helped comb hers out then she helped me with mine.

"You know, there's still one problem," Darla remarked as she was brushing my hair.

"What's that?" I wondered, looking at her in the mirror.

With an impish grin, she said, "Well, we can't go around calling you John anymore, now can we?"

"No, that would never do, would it?" I laughed.

"Not with that face and body!" Darla chuckled.

That sent us both into a long fit of giggling. When it finally subsided, I sat there for a few minutes, trying to come up with an appropriate name.

 _You've already chosen it, lifemate,_ Tarnaa reminded me, making me gasp.

"What is it?" Darla inquired, glancing from me to my dragon.

 _Do you like it?_ I silently asked.

 _I like everything you like,_ Tarnaa replied.

Turning to my Istan friend, I asked, "How about Dana?"

"Hmm," she mused, rubbing her chin like some sententious uncle. "Dana, gold Tarnaa's rider. You know, it suits you. Alright, Dana it is!"

"Now, can you help me with this mess?" I asked, grabbing a fistful of my hair. "I've never had so much, and I don't know a thing about how to take care of it!"

We decided to just comb it out and leave it in a relaxed style. Darla did give me a few tips on how to take care of it. She even taught me how to style it in several different fairly easy ways, all of them very flattering. After that, we sat and talked like we'd known each other all our lives and I was amazed at how easily I slipped into my new gender role. Guess Tarnaa was right. It was just a matter of the rest of me catching up to my heart.

 _About time, too,_ she snorted.

Manora and some of the other weyr women arrived a short time later and set about fitting me with a dizzying array of new clothes, ones more suited to my new feminine attributes. Once I managed to catch my breath from all the attention, I put on the proper delicates then slipped into a pale yellow sundress, the first I'd ever worn. It had a modestly plunging neckline accented by delicate stitching depicting dragons in flight. It felt strange at first, my old male thinking still prevalent, but as I looked at myself in the mirror, I had to admit it did look pretty on me.

Brekke stopped by to see how I was doing and voiced instant approval of my choice. It was while Darla, Brekke, and I were busy chatting away that Ryeena walked in.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she apologized, glancing around, a confused look on her face. "I didn't mean to intrude. I thought this was where John was recuperating. Please excuse me."

"Ryeena," Brekke called out as my young friend turned to leave, "don't you recognize your friend's two companions?"

Turning back, Ryeena looked, squinted, and then gasped, her eyes flying wide.

"Goldie?" she whispered, staring at the little queen perched on my shoulder, lovingly headstroking my cheek.

"Tarnaa?!" Ryeena squeaked, bug-eyed as my lifemate bowed her head in acknowledgment.

Then, my young healer friend stared straight at me.

"But, …" she stammered, struggling to find the words to express her shock.

"We're a team, remember?" I quietly spoke, hands folded in my lap, my eyes on her. "Both as dragon healers …"

"Or both as dragonriders," Ryeena finished, her voice an awed, barely heard whisper.

"Only now," I chuckled, grinning broadly, "it's both as female dragonriders!"

"John!" she gasped, her steps faltering as she moved closer. "Is that really you?"

I nodded, smiling at my thunderstruck friend.

"Only it's not John anymore," Darla remarked.

"Her name is Dana now," Brekke finished, patting my leg.

I held out my hands. Ryeena slowly came and took them, kneeling in front of me, her eyes searching my face, trying to find some trace of who I'd once been.

"Your eyes!" she gasped, backing up a little.

"Ryeena, please don't let them frighten you," I spoke, squeezing her hands in a silent entreaty. "I'm scared enough for the entire weyr as it is!"

"They're turning orange!" she exclaimed, her eyes growing wider. "Just like …"

"A dragon's," I finished for her, nodding.

"What happened to you?" she asked, taking a seat on the floor in front of us.

"I wish I had an answer," I sighed, shrugging. "Didn't you know what was going on?"

I turned to the two queen riders sitting beside me.

"It was Lessa's idea," Brekke answered, taking one of my hands in hers. "Caring for a hatchling would be hard enough without the added pressure of worrying about you."

"The senior queens were assigned to look after you," Darla added, taking my other hand. "Ryeena was ordered to stay away."

"What?!" I exclaimed, leaping to my feet, Goldie throttling my neck with her tail as she struggled to maintain her perch on my shoulder. "And you thought that would keep her from worrying?"

"Dana," Ryeena spoke, taking my hand lightly in hers.

"Ryeena, if I had known," I began, sinking to the floor in front of her.

"It wouldn't have made any difference," she said, her hand on my lips cutting me off. "They did the right thing."

"But," I stammered.

"Long before we became dragonriders," she said, tears forming in her eyes, "you taught me what it meant to be a dragon healer."

Tears of my own began to form as she smiled at me.

"You showed me what that meant when you helped me face Sylene," she went on. "You showed me again when you accepted Tarnaa."

Tears rolled down my cheeks.

"I was worried sick about you," Ryeena confessed, trying to smile as her own tears fell, "but you showed me where my true duty lay. Keeping me away let me focus on that, or I would have been no good to Sylene, either as healer or lifemate. I'm sorry."

"Ryeena," I wept, hugging her tightly. "Don't be sorry. I'm proud of you!" Pulling back, I added, "And, as Masterharper Menolly's special apprentice, I need you now more than ever!"

"But I've taught you everything I know," she protested, her expression puzzled.

"Except for all the little things that only a girl would know!" I said, squeezing her hands. "Ryeena, I have no experience at this. Will you help me?"

"You mean, we'd be like sisters!" she exclaimed, grinning broadly.

"Only … you'd be my big sister, Ryeena," I demurred.

"Your big sister?!" she laughed. "Dana, you're nearly 30 Turns older than me!"

"Am I?" I asked, smiling at her. "Am I really? Think about it. How long have I actually been a girl?"

"Well, I …" she started to say then gasped, eyes flying wide. "By the stars!"

"You see?" I said, squeezing her hands. "Compared to you, compared to all of you, I'm practically a baby. Still, there's one good thing about me being full-grown."

"And what's that?" Brekke wondered.

When I off-handedly remarked about already being 'necessary-trained,' they laughed so hard that they all fell out of their seats!

"And just what is so hysterical?" Lessa demanded as she and F'lar entered.

While the others struggled to recover their composure, I stood and approached the Benden Weyrleaders. At first, Lessa watched me, her eyes uncertain. Then, her hand flew to her mouth, trying to stifle a tiny gasp.

"John?" she quietly asked.

"Not anymore, Weyrwoman," I just as quietly replied. "Now I am Dana, master dragon healer and gold Tarnaa's rider."

Lessa looked me up and down, her smile slowly growing. "The transformation is truly astounding. How are you feeling? Especially now?"

Chuckling, I told her, "I feel like a rack of bones, but seven months without proper food will do that. I'll just have to wait and see how this new me fills out. Beyond that, I'm just happy to be alive!"

"What?" Lessa wondered when I shook my head.

"Ever since my arrival at Benden," I sighed, smiling weakly, "seems I've done little else but rest and recuperate." My expression growing serious, I added, "Weyrwoman, I am so sorry for being such a burden to everyone."

"Don't be silly, J … I mean, Dana," Lessa said, correcting herself. "You've been no burden, far from it."

"She's right, Dana," F'lar injected. "I shudder to think what would have happened if you and Ryeena hadn't been here. And what you did for Wirenth …"

Every eye – dragon, fire lizard, and human – fixed on me. F'lar gestured for me to have a seat. I did, crossing my legs properly, then everyone else settled around me.

"How _did_ you call Wirenth from _between_?" F'lar quietly asked; his expression at once terrified and hopeful.

"I only wish I could tell you, Weyrleader," I sighed, seeing the same expression mirrored in the others. "Up until that moment, I would have said such a thing was impossible. But I can't dispute the evidence before us," indicating Wirenth peering through the opening from the queen's portion of this weyr.

"Do you have any ideas?" Brekke inquired, gently taking my hand in hers.

"Well," I haltingly began, "I'm no expert in temporal mechanics or the space-time continuum. I can only speculate on a possibility."

"Go on," F'lar urged me, leaning closer.

"I think it may have had something to do with all of the dragons singing together," I said. "Somehow, I think their singing combined with their telepathic and teleportational abilities caused a momentary temporal rift …"

"A rift?" Lessa wondered.

"A tear in the fabric of space and time," I explained. "My guess is that rift somehow bridged the gap between our time and the moment Wirenth went _between_."

"But if she'd already gone _between_ ," Darla interjected, "how could you have heard her?"

"I only know that I did," I answered, looking straight into Brekke's eyes. "While I was sleeping off Tarnaa's Impression, I had a dream about Wirenth."

"Another premonition?!" Lessa gasped.

I nodded.

"It was pitch black in that dream place," I explained. "A queen dragon was there, alone, crying for her rider. The biting cold, the sightless desolation, the terrifying despair, it all seemed so real."

" _Between!_ " Darla hissed.

"She cried out, 'Lifemate, I don't want to die!'"

"That's what you were mumbling when you collapsed on the platform!" Lessa gasped.

"And I heard music in the background," I said, my eyes I knew turning an uncertain orange. "'Keymon's Song'!"

"Shells!" Ryeena exclaimed. "That's what you were singing just before Wirenth appeared!"

"As I approached the dragon," I continued, stroking Tarnaa's neck as I did, "she turned, revealing the horrible gashes in her neck and the one damaged eye."

"How did you know it was Wirenth?" Brekke wondered.

"I asked her."

 _That's why you woke that morning,_ Tarnaa rumbled.

"When I heard that dragon cry out during the celebration, I was too disoriented to make the connection," I whispered; the magnitude of what I had done finally hitting home. "Whoever it was was so afraid and terribly alone. I had to help, so I projected an image of Benden Weyr for her to follow. The rest you know."

There were tears in her eyes as Brekke stood, pulling me to my feet.

"You have given me back a part of myself I thought lost forever," she said, tears falling as she hugged me tightly. "I can never repay you for what you've done. From now on, I want you to think of yourself as my sister. If you ever need someone to talk to, to share a secret with, or just a shoulder to cry on, come find me or bespeak Wirenth and we'll be there."

"Thank you," I whispered, my own tears falling as I returned the hug.

I gestured for Ryeena to join us.

As she put her arm around my waist, I said, "From having no family of my own here on Pern to having two sisters, I could not have imagined being so blessed."

Gently, I eased myself from their arms and moved over to Tarnaa.

"But I have lost so much, as well," I wept, tears falling as I wrapped my arms around my dragon's neck. "I have missed seeing you grow and so many other things."

 _All that matters, lifemate, is that you are well,_ Tarnaa hummed.

Chuckling, I reached up and patted her neck.

Just as suddenly, I stiffened, a tiny gasp escaping me as a terrified, lonely cry echoed in my mind.

 _Lifemate, don't leave me!_

The force of the cry sent me staggering.

"Dana, what is it?" Brekke asked, seizing my shoulders.

I didn't hear her.

"Friend, I am Tarnaa's rider," I spoke aloud and sent at the same time. "Who are you? Why are you frightened?"

 _I am Barnath,_ the dragon responded, terror in every syllable. _I have lost my rider. It is so cold, so lonely._

I seized Brekke's arms. "Barnath! What weyr is he from?"

"Barnath?" F'lar responded, his expression confused. "He's from Southern. Why?"

"Southern? Heth!" I shouted, verbally and mentally. "I am Tarnaa's rider. Is Barnath's rider alive?"

 _Yes, rider,_ the bronze replied. _He was knocked from his dragon, but my rider says he'll be alright._

Wheeling about, I dashed out of the queen's apartment, pushing past startled dragon and rider alike.

"Barnath," I called out, as loudly as I mentally could, "your rider is alive, not _between!_ Come to us," I called to him, projecting the Benden Weyr lake as I did. "We can help you!"

 _Not between?_ the dragon repeated.

"Please, Barnath, come to us," I begged him. "Your rider needs you!"

 _So cold, so tired,_ the dragon muttered.

"You must try, Barnath," I repeated, broadcasting the image of the weyr lake once more. "Please, come to us! You must … to help your rider."

 _I … come._

Dashing for the lake, as loud as I could, I called, "Heth! Bring Barnath's rider to Benden. Hurry!"

The others trailed behind me, confused by my behavior and perhaps fearful that I might be having a relapse. Just as we reached the shore of the lake, a massive bronze appeared from _between,_ splashing heavily into the water.

"Ramoth! Mnementh!" I called out. "To the lake! I need you!"

Howling a challenge, the two great Benden dragons appeared from their weyrs, gliding down to the lake.

"Monarth! Canth!" I called a second time. "The weyr lake! Now!"

Heedless of the startled cries behind me, I dove into the water even as T'gellan's bronze and F'nor's brown bugled from somewhere above us. In spite of my weakened condition, I reached the floating Southern bronze in seconds.

"Barnath? Barnath!" I called out, grasping the bronze's eye ridge.

 _We are here, Dana,_ Ramoth rumbled, she and her weyrmate hovering above, their great wings sending powerful gusts of wind across the water.

"Drag him to shore!" I ordered. "Quickly!"

Soon, the air above the lake was full of dragons, the four I'd called seizing portions of Barnath's limp body and hauling him nearly out of the water as they carried him to shore.

A ripple across my senses, I looked up to see K'van's bronze appear in the skies above us.

"Heth," I called, swimming to shore as I did. "By the lake! Hurry!"

All of us reached the same spot at nearly the same instant. Staggering from the lake, I placed a hand on Barnath's side, recoiling in the same instant.

"Spirits of my ancestors, he's near frozen!" I gasped, shivering violently. "Quickly, we've got to get him to the Hatching Ground!"

"Barnath?" a rider called out as he ran over. "Barnath! It's me! F'ran! Talk to me!"

The dragon didn't respond.

"Tarnaa, bite his tail!" I ordered.

My lifemate obliged without hesitation. The Southern bronze snapped awake, howling his displeasure.

"BARNATH!" I shouted, verbally and mentally as hard as I could.

The dragon howled again, his rider staggering backwards from the pain my cry induced. The dragon's head swung around to me, eyes an angry red, a threatening rumble coming from his throat. Then, as everyone else looked on, I stepped up to the bronze and did the unthinkable … I punched him square in the nose as hard as I could!

"Damn you, dragon!" I raged, my own eyes matching Barnath's crimson intensity. "I won't have you dying on me when your lifemate needs you!"

 _F'ran?_ the dragon rumbled, his eyes switching to an uncertain orange.

"Here, you great ponderous oaf," his rider replied, unfettered adoration for his lifemate in every syllable.

"Lead him to the Hatching Ground, F'ran," I directed, gesturing across the bowl. "The hot sands there will take the chill from his bones."

"Ramoth, Mnementh, you others, help him!" I instructed, pointing to them. "Push him if you have to, but hurry! We must get him warmed up quickly before he succumbs to the cold!"

It was quite a sight I'm sure: F'ran leading his dragon to the Hatching Ground, Ramoth and the other dragons hovering protectively around him, nudging him along at a brisk pace. Once on the sands, Barnath soon got the idea and found a comfortable spot to curl up on. It was then that I noticed the strange way the Southern rider was holding his arm.

"Let me have a look at that," I quietly said, helping him remove his riding jacket.

He grimaced in pain as we did.

"Where does it hurt?" I asked, checking out the blood on the back of his head.

"Shoulder," he replied, grunting as I prodded it gently.

"Looks like you hit your head, too," I commented, easing his shirt off of him to get a better look. "What happened?"

"A weyrling on firestone duty came out of _between_ lower than he was supposed to," K'van informed me. "Their dragons collided, knocking F'ran off his."

"The shoulder's dislocated," I commented, noting the telltale misalignment and bruising. "We'll need to set this and then immobilize it."

With no warning, I grabbed F'ran's arm and wrenched the joint back into its socket. Dragon and rider both howled with pain, though who howled louder was anyone's guess. Manora showed up with bandages, and, in no time, we had the arm immobilized, the pain eased with some good Benden wine.

"Whoof!" I gushed, collapsing on the steps of the tiers as F'ran looked after his dragon. "That was a near thing! For a while, I thought we were going to lose Barnath."

Silence. Looking up, I found the others just staring at me.

"What?" I wondered, returning their gaze. Then, fussing with my dripping hair and clothes, I muttered, "Oh, shards, I must look an absolute fright!"

"Who's your young friend, Lessa?" K'van wondered, grinning at me. "I thought you were the only one possessed of such a fiery disposition!"

"Why, K'van, I'm surprised at you!" Lessa chided him, smiling as she sat beside me. "Don't you recognize," and she paused for effect, "Tarnaa's rider?"

"Tarnaa's?!" he gasped, staring at me in disbelief. "Then, those stories we've been hearing are true?" His expression turning serious, he asked, "How did you know Barnath had gone _between_?"

"By Faranth's Egg," I muttered, hugging myself against the tremors the memory caused, "it was like someone had stabbed a spear of ice through my heart! Didn't any of you hear it?"

"You heard a dragon while it was _between_?" Brekke gasped, her eyes flying wide.

"I thought all riders could hear dragons _between_ ," I remarked, puzzled by the thunderstruck expressions on everyone's faces.

"They can," Lessa commented, turning me to face her, "but only because they are astride their dragons and both are _between_. Till now, no one's ever heard a dragon _between_ when they were not!"

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I whispered, stunned by the implication.

"Dana, don't you see?" Darla asked, kneeling in front of me. "This is why you felt compelled to find Pern, to fulfill your true destiny. Of all the myriad worlds and peoples you have seen in your star-spanning travels, where else would your special gifts and unique abilities have fit so perfectly?"

"Only here, Darla," I replied, kneeling to give her a grateful hug. "Only here."

"K'van," I said, rising to face him, "the weyrling, what will happen to him?"

"Well, my wing-second has probably already given him a good 'Threading' for that stunt," K'van said, rubbing his chin.

"I agree some form of punishment is called for," I interrupted, resting a hand on his arm, "but if the terror I felt over nearly losing Barnath is anything like his, then he's probably scared spitless after nearly causing the death of a dragon from his own Weyr." I paused then, my eyes searching his. "Please, for my sake, go easy on him. I doubt he will be so careless again."

"Alright," K'van said, smiling. "For you."

Unexpectedly, he placed a gentle hand under my chin, lifting it slightly, then moved it from one side to the other.

"Dragon eyes, too," he absently commented. "We hadn't heard about that."

I gasped ever so slightly, nibbling my lower lip, my eyes on the sands. My cheeks felt very warm.

"Yere young friend is either exceedingly crazy or incredibly brave, F'lar, Lessa," F'ran spoke up as he approached. "Dinna think I've ever seen anyone punch a bronze in the nose before."

"I had to do something to get his cold-fuddled mind focused," I said, grinning sheepishly. "It was the only thing I could think of."

"Well, lass, it certainly did the trick," F'ran responded, glancing over at his recumbent dragon. Then, touching the side of his head, he added, "Though that mental blast ye sent him would have been enough."

"Sorry," I apologized, nibbling my lip and shuffling my feet in embarrassment.

"Ahh, don't be sorry, lass," F'ran assured me, laying a hand on my shoulder. "I but wish we'd had yere like around a wee bit sooner. Think of all the dragons and riders ye could'a saved."

"Well, I'm here now," I told him, straightening my shoulders.

"Aye, and glad am I of that!" he laughed, thumping me gently on the shoulder.

"Now, if you'll all excuse me," I chuckled, grinning sheepishly as I held out the hem of my dress, "I better go change into something a bit less damp before I impose on Benden's hospitality again."

"Come on," Brekke laughed, taking my hand. "You'll need someone to fix that mess you made of your hair."

Giggling as we went, I followed my sister out of the Hatching Ground.


	25. Chapter 25 - Never Been Done Before!

Chapter 25

 _Never Been Done Before!_

I NEEDED A WALK. Whenever something was bothering me, I took a walk to relax and clear my mind. And what, you may ask, was at the top of my worry list this evening? Only the latest of my precognitive dreams … the one from my dragon blood coma. Every vision to date had presaged significant events that I would somehow be involved in. But I could make no sense of this one. A ring of faces, bronzes and their riders, closing in around me, pouncing as I stumbled and fell. What could it mean?

Night was descending over Benden as I emerged from my quarters. The skies were clear, the first stars of evening flickering into existence. The soft snoring behind me was proof that Tarnaa and Goldie were already fast asleep. It was a beautiful evening. All seemed at peace … until the sound of someone crying shattered my reverie.

My heart always ached when I heard that sound, filling me with the desire to comfort the one who wept. But now that I was a woman, the ache was even stronger, the desire to comfort so much greater. There'd been no injuries or deaths that I knew of in the latest Threadfall. What, then, could be wrong? Looking about for the source of the weeping, I spotted Brekke and F'nor across the bowl just as she pushed away from him and ran back to her quarters.

Don't be sad, Lifemate, I overheard Wirenth remark.

I wish there was something we could do, Canth rumbled, nuzzling his rider.

I staggered backwards, sudden dread nearly stopping my heart. At times like this, being able to hear all dragons was a terrible burden. F'nor and Brekke loved each other deeply. Wirenth was alive and whole once more, restored to her lifemate. What could have happened to upset them so? I ran to intercept F'lar's half-brother as he and Canth turned toward their own weyr.

"F'nor, what …"

"There's nothing you can do," he muttered, leading Canth away.

The pained look in his eyes and on his face crushed my heart. It was several long minutes before I was able to overcome the shock of witnessing such gut-wrenching anguish.

Maybe, dragonrider, I thought, turning toward Brekke's weyr. Then again, …

Wailing sobs spilled from the opening, my heart aching all the more. Feeling very much the intruder, I tiptoed inside. Brekke was kneeling beside her dragon, hands on Wirenth's neck, her queen nuzzling her, humming assurances. Berd buzzed around above them, trilling distress. As I approached, Wirenth looked up, but, to her credit, remained silent as I knelt beside my friend and adopted sister.

"Brekke?" I whispered, my hand gently touching her heaving shoulder.

"Please, just leave me alone," she said between sobs, Berd trilling forlornly somewhere above us. "There's nothing you can do."

F'nor had said the same thing. By my ancestors, what was going on here?

"Brekke," I said, slowly turning her to face me, "you told me to consider myself your sister. If ever I needed someone to talk to, to share a secret with, or just a shoulder to cry on, I was to come find you or bespeak Wirenth. Remember?"

She nodded, not looking up.

"As your sister and friend, is it not my right to extend the same to you?"

Brekke looked up then, her face awash in tears, the look in her eyes a terrifying mirror of the grief that I had seen only moments before in F'nor's. I gasped, my mind making such a staggering intuitive leap, it rocked me back on my heels.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I hissed, my hands covering my mouth. "Sister, what have I done to you?"

Brekke's tear-stained face turned puzzled.

"Wirenth must be close to mating!" I exclaimed, looking up at the queen. "You love F'nor, but only the bronzes are allowed to fly the queens! Oh, Shards, Brekke!"

Scorch the flesh and sear the skin, it had been so obvious! By calling Wirenth from between, I had set in motion a chain of events that could very well destroy not only the love Brekke and F'nor had for each other but their very lives as well!

Brekke's eyes found mine. With another sob, mine or hers I wasn't sure, we embraced, crying as one.

But, then, "NO!" I exclaimed, pulling back suddenly. "I won't let this happen to you! Canth must fly Wirenth!"

"He's not allowed," Brekke argued, shaking her head.

"Why?" I demanded, suddenly furious. "Just because he's a brown?"

"Only the bronzes are permitted to fly the queens," Benden's Weyrwoman announced as she entered.

"Lessa, Canth is as big as most bronzes I've seen!" I raged, leaping to my feet to confront her. "With his maturity and experience, I'd wager he could fly the wings off every bronze here!"

"Dana," Lessa sighed, shaking her head. "I appreciate how you feel, truly, but this is how it has been since the days of the first dragons and riders. Canth will have to remain behind. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?!" I exploded, my face livid as I spun Benden's Weyrwoman around to face me. "You've just condemned both dragons and riders to a slow, agonizing death, and you're sorry? Damn it, Lessa, where's the harm in letting him try?"

"You forget yourself, dragonrider," she hissed, shaking free of my grasp. "I am Weyrwoman here. Canth stays."

With that, Lessa turned and stormed out.

"Dana," Brekke quietly spoke, laying a hand on my arm. "Dear sister, thank you. At least you tried."

"This isn't over yet," I growled, pacing back and forth, seething with rage. Whirling suddenly to face Brekke, my eyes searching hers, I asked, "How much do you love F'nor?"

She opened her mouth to say something but hesitated, uncertain where this was leading.

"Enough to risk your Weyrwoman's wrath?" I asked into the silence.

"But … she is yours as well!" Brekke sputtered.

"Ah, ha!" I exclaimed, seizing her hand and hurrying out of her weyr. "That's where you're wrong, sister."

Wirenth was closer to flying than anyone realized. Her frenzied cries the next morning were proof of that, startling the entire weyr out of a sound sleep. Hurriedly throwing on a bathing robe, I dashed out of my quarters just in time to see her bring down a second kill. Her one good eye was an intense agitated red, and she seemed to almost be glowing.

Goldie appeared, buzzing about my head, clearly agitated by what was going on.

Lifemate, what is happening? Tarnaa wondered, nudging my shoulder as she came up beside me.

"Wirenth bloods her kill!" I exclaimed, spotting the bronzes ranged along the rim of the crater, their own eyes feverishly red with anticipation. "Brekke!"

I sprinted across the Weyr bowl, Goldie winging along ahead of me. Bronze riders were crammed shoulder-to-shoulder in the room when I finally got there. Brekke was standing in the middle: her eyes wild; incoherent guttural sounds coming from her, her face contorted by the fury of the mating drive.

Shoving my way through the sea of bodies, I eased up beside her. Then, slowly, deliberately, I led her over to the bed. As we settled back on the rushes, she continued to cry out, thrashing about in deft mimicry of what must be happening to her lifemate. Goldie and Berd circled above, trilling their distress.

Lifemate, are you alright? Tarnaa asked. I can't reach you.

Small wonder. The room was filled to bursting with those caught up in the mating drive.

Yes, my heart, I assured her. Stay where you are. You'll be safe there.

Suddenly, Brekke fixed her gaze on those around her, screaming at them in unholy fury. It could only mean one thing. Wirenth had just taken wing. The gathered riders drew closer. Goldie joined us on the bed, landing on my shoulder, twining her tail lovingly about my neck as she nuzzled my cheek.

Honored ancestors, I silently prayed, a tear sliding down my cheek as I held my sister close, please let this work.

Brekke cried out, her face a contorted mask of contempt, the riders inching a bit closer. Looking up at their approach, I gasped. The image before me was just like the one from my fever dream!

And then, in the blink of an eye, I was high above Pern, the warmth of Rukbat's light lending strength to my wings.

Wait a second! My wings?!

Yes, my wings, I rejoiced, feeling the rush of wind over my hide as I soared along.

Casually, almost contemptuously, I glanced behind me. The pursuing bronzes were there, wings beating frantically as they struggled to close the gap.

Damn Prideth's rider to eternal Threadscoring, I silently cursed.

It would not be easy evading those rutting bronzes, blind in one eye because of that wanton woman's complete disregard of her Weyr training and traditions.

The memories were still fresh, burned like Threadscore into my mind. Prideth, in heat, rising during my own mating flight, trying to steal my bronzes away.

A shudder ran through me. How could these be my memories?

The ensuing struggle, the flash of talons, the searing pain in my face as they ripped through my eye. The final battle, the pain and despair, the cold of between. I didn't hate Prideth. The whole incident had been her rider's fault. Only her rider's.

I shuddered again, realizing with growing alarm that the line between Dana and Wirenth was starting to blur. I had to end this.

Catch me, you hope? I rumbled, facing forward again. I think not!

Rolling inverted, I beat my wings hard, pulling quickly through a midair reversal, sometimes called a Split-S, heading straight for the pursuing bronzes. They scattered, caught off-guard by the sudden maneuver.

I/Wirenth led the bronzes a merry dance. Time and again they howled in frustration as I/she let them draw tantalizingly close only to suddenly veer out of reach. All the while, I/she kept an eye out for one specific dragon, the only one who truly deserved the honor of this flight. But there was no sign of him.

Oh, Canth, my love, where are you?

Spirits of my ancestors! Were those my thoughts… or Wirenth's?

An hour passed … then two … and still the flight went on. Many of the bronzes had already abandoned the chase, though some were still in pursuit. Yet, not one had proven clever enough to catch me/Wirenth.

The line blurred further.

None of you are worthy enough, I growled, sniffing in disgust.

Wings beating powerfully, I climbed higher into the skies, pulling away from the trailing dragons with each downstroke. One by one, strength and endurance finally spent, the remaining bronzes fell away, ending their pursuit.

Oh, my love …

Lost in thought, distracted by sorrow, a shadow passed over me unseen. Then something slammed into me, fouling one wing as it did. Howling in rage, I turned to see who would dare, but something tangled my tail while talons grasped my other wing.

Falling out of control toward the hard earth far below, I turned to see who it could be and felt something twine about my neck. The eyes that met mine were those I feared I would never see.

Canth!

Entwined, we fell. From some hidden wellspring of strength, Canth spread his massive wings to check our fall. Fearing our plummeting descent, I did the same. And then…

And then, my consciousness exploded back into my own body with such violence that it sent me reeling, every fiber of my being throbbing, hands flailing wildly as they sought out some kind of sturdy support. Hands not my own came to my rescue. I was vaguely aware of being half carried, half led out of the chamber, Goldie trilling in alarm somewhere nearby. For an instant, I was left standing alone. It was long enough.

"Whoa, take it easy," someone called out, sweeping me up with strong arms as I nearly fell on my face.

Lifemate? came Tarnaa's nervous query as my mysterious companion gently set me down in a nearby chair.

"Here, have her drink this," Lessa's familiar voice broke through my confusion.

Dazedly, I felt a cup being pressed into my violently trembling hands. Strong yet gentle hands lingered, helping me raise the drink to my lips. I took a few tentative sips as Goldie backwinged to my shoulder.

Distilled spirits, strong and biting! The shock brought the world around me into clearer focus. As Goldie head-caressed my cheek, crooning reassurances, I finally looked up to see who'd helped me.

"Never known two riders to react so strongly to a single mating flight," my handsome companion remarked, his gentle smile warming me in some indefinable manner.

"You're not of this weyr," I finally managed to say, feeling a warmth in my cheeks.

"I'm L'trel, bronze Fellth's rider from Southern," he introduced himself, moving over a bit as Tarnaa came up beside me. "And I owe you a great debt."

"Me?" I wondered, a bit confused as I reached out to stroke my lifemate's neck ridge.

"You asked K'van to go easy on me after that incident with Barnath," he quietly said.

"The weyrling!" I gasped, nearly dropping the cup I was holding.

"Feel up to some klah?" L'trel asked, holding up a steaming mug.

I nodded gratefully. While the strong spirits had cleared the fog, there was nothing like a good mug of klah to bring you awake.

I felt you with me, and yet, you weren't, Tarnaa rumbled, proffering an eye ridge for me to scratch. Where did you go, lifemate?

Somewhere wondrous and unexpected, my heart, I answered, scratching her eye ridge while taking a few careful sips of the steaming klah.

Looking up, I found L'trel had settled on a stool nearby. He was busy studying my face.

"Sorry," he blurted out, his own face reddening somewhat. "I didn't mean to stare."

"It's my eyes, isn't it?" I asked, taking another sip of klah.

He nodded, smiling shyly.

He thinks they are very beautiful, Dana, a strange dragon informed me.

L'trel's horrified expression, his face turning suddenly and thoroughly crimson, let me know it could only have been his dragon.

Well, you do, Fellth added.

They are beautiful, Tarnaa agreed.

Smiling, I reached over to give my lifemate a hug before placing a gentle hand on L'trel's arm.

"Thank you."

"I'd heard K'van and the others talking about them," he said, running his fingers through his gorgeous blonde hair, "but I never credit what I hear."

"Brekke!" I suddenly gasped, rising from my seat, Goldie squawking in alarm as she struggled to maintain her perch on my shoulder.

"It's alright," L'trel assured me, a gentle, supportive hand under my arm. "F'nor's with her. Can you believe it? A brown flew a queen!"

Relief so overwhelming and intense hit me so suddenly that I nearly fainted, tears pouring down my face. L'trel's steadying hand on my elbow was greatly appreciated. He urged me to sit, taking the klah from me before I could drop it.

"From what I've managed to overhear," he quietly told me, "none of the bronzes could keep up with her. Darting, swooping, diving, Wirenth flew the wings off 'em!"

She is very strong, Tarnaa commented. Canth was the only one clever enough to catch her.

I smiled at L'trel, tears continuing to fall as I chuckled softly.

"What I don't understand is how you were affected by it," he remarked, giving my hands a gentle, even affectionate, squeeze.

"Dana and her adopted sister may be more closely related familially than we suspected," Lessa cut in as she and F'lar approached. "Or perhaps it was Wirenth's blood that made her more sensitive."

Pulling over a nearby bench, the two Benden leaders joined us.

"What happened?" Lessa asked as F'lar handed his weyrmate a mug of klah.

"I'm not sure," I answered candidly, nodding thanks to L'trel as he handed me back my own. "Wirenth's blood-letting startled me out of my sleep. When I realized what she was doing, I ran here."

"Brekke was standing in the middle of the room," I continued, gesturing with my free hand, "the bronze riders crowding around her. I was afraid she might fall and hurt herself, so I helped her over to the bed. I sat with her, afraid she might slip. When I looked up, …"

The three riders were watching me intently, hanging on every word.

"Just before I came out of my dragon blood coma," I quietly explained, my eyes on the mist rising from my klah mug, "I had a dream."

"Another premonition?!" Lessa gasped.

I nodded.

"I was alone in a room," I said, not looking up. "Dragons and their riders had formed a ring around me. They were all watching me hungrily. While I was sitting with Brekke, I looked up for a moment, and the image I saw was just like the one from my dream!"

"Go on," F'lar said, leaning closer.

"I'm not sure what happened next," I confessed, feeling warmth in my face. "Suddenly, I wasn't in the room with Brekke anymore. I was flying high over Pern … as Wirenth!"

So that's where you went, Tarnaa quietly rumbled, nuzzling my arm.

"You mean, you were flying astride Wirenth," L'trel commented.

"No," I disagreed, shaking my head. "I was Wirenth. Golden hide, powerful wings, long sinuous neck. Body and soul, I was Brekke's dragon! When I looked back, I could see the bronzes following. So, I decided to test them. I dove at them, teased them, then swerved off. Stars, how they howled! Yet not one of them proved clever enough to catch me. None of them were worthy enough."

F'lar cleared his throat, but I didn't look up.

"In the end, I just started beating my wings harder and faster," I spoke quietly, my eyes never leaving the mug in my hand. "Soon, the bronzes were far behind."

"And then Canth appeared," Lessa quietly suggested.

I nodded.

"He caught me from above and behind," I whispered, my throat constricted by the memory. "He must have gone between to get above me then used his greater altitude to gain speed enough to overtake me. A clever move, really. My wings became fouled, our tails and necks entwined. Somehow, he found the strength to open his wings to break our fall. I remember doing the same, and then I … we … that is, … Ohhhh!"

Shards and shells, why wasn't the room any brighter? I was sure I was blushing so fiercely, the glow from my face could have matched the light from a glowbasket! My cheeks were certainly warm enough beneath the hands I'd placed over my face in embarrassment.

Will it be like that when I mate? Tarnaa wondered.

Better, I assured her, hugging her fiercely. Much, much better because we will be together to share it.

"First mating flight?" L'trel asked, his gentle smile at once disarming and comforting.

"Now, that's very interesting," Lessa mused, rubbing her chin. "I've talked to several of the bronze riders. Their stories pretty much coincide with what you've just told us. Some of them said they were closing in on Wirenth toward the end when she suddenly sped away, climbing high and fast, leaving them breathlessly behind, just as you described. Could the joining of your mind with hers have lent Wirenth the extra strength she needed?"

Sighing wearily, Lessa rose, glancing toward the curtain that obscured the sleeping chamber.

"Why?" she muttered, shaking her head. "What could have possessed F'nor to send Canth aloft? He knows the traditions."

"F'nor would never disobey you, Weyrwoman," I said, meeting her gaze. "You should know that."

"Then who sent Canth aloft?"

Without a sound, I rose from my seat to face her.

"You?!" Lessa exploded, her face livid. "You dare …"

"YES, I DARE," I roared back, my klah mug shattering against a nearby wall, Goldie squawking in alarm as she took wing, "because, lest everyone here has forgotten, above all else I am a dragon healer, sworn to the health and welfare of every single dragon and rider on the face of this planet! In my judgment, your decision to keep Canth from the mating flight placed both riders and their dragons in extreme danger, and that I could not allow!"

"Danger?!" Lessa spluttered, her expression incredulous. "What are you ranting about?"

"Have you been so blind that you could not see the breadth and depth of the love F'nor and Brekke have for each other?" I continued, eyes and wills locked with the Benden Weyrwoman. "By my revered ancestors, surely you haven't forgotten that it was Canth who was the first of the fighting dragons to come to Wirenth's rescue when she was battling Prideth?"

"Of course not," Lessa responded.

"And when F'nor and Canth went between to the Red Star, whose cry was it that guided them back to Pern?" I roared on, incensed to a point I hadn't thought possible. "Weyrwoman, theirs is not just a love between riders or dragons but a love so intertwined, what one feels, all share!"

"At the very least, F'nor and Brekke would have suffered from extreme depression," I said, my gaze sweeping the others in the room, "their states of mind directly affecting their dragons, rendering them a danger to themselves and others trying to battle Thread."

I paused for breath, allowing what I'd already said to sink in. The room was deathly quiet.

"What you don't know, Weyrwoman, is that I met with F'nor and Brekke late last night," I told her, my voice quieter but my anger still smoldering. "They both confided to me that they would rather take their dragons between than be separated from each other!"

No! Tarnaa exclaimed, horrified by such a thing.

Save for myself, every person gasped, F'lar and Lessa both turning pale.

My anger at last spent, my knees weak, I sank back down in the chair.

Are you well, Lifemate? my queen asked, her eyes whirling orange as she laid her head in my lap.

Yes, my heart, I assured her, stroking her head knobs.

"Had I done nothing," I sighed, looking at those around me, "you would have been faced with a tragedy of heart-rending proportions, one that not even all of my healing skills could have saved."

There wasn't a sound from anyone in the room, at least until Goldie showed up, landing on my shoulder and trilling in distress as she tried to find out why I'd been so angry. I smiled, hugging her fragile head to my cheek, crooning softly to her as I stroked her neck ridge.

A glass appeared before me, invitingly filled with Benden wine. Looking up, I found L'trel holding it out to me.

"Thought you might need this," he quietly said, shock and awe mirrored in his expression.

F'lar and Lessa were standing in front of me. Taking a generous sip of the Benden, I motioned for them to sit.

"Weyrwoman … Lessa," I haltingly spoke, "when Kitti Ping first created the dragons from their smaller cousins, they weren't much bigger than Ruth is today. Back then, the bronzes were probably the only dragons that could match the queen's strength and endurance during a mating flight. What started out as a simple fact of life somewhere along the way became tradition. But Kitti Ping knew that, as with all living creatures, her creations would continue to grow, to mature and evolve. They would become larger, stronger, faster, more intelligent, where only the fittest would survive. Yet there was always the chance that one member of the species might, on a rare occasion, excel beyond expectations."

"Canth," F'lar surmised.

"Yes, Weyrleader," I said, nodding. "Compared to other browns, he is certainly well above the norm. Were it not for the color of his hide, you might easily mistake him for a bronze. He is strong, mature, and intelligent. And my instincts told me he was up to the flight."

"So this whole mess was nothing more than you following your instincts?" Lessa wondered, her anger only slightly diminished.

"I've learned to trust them, Weyrwoman," I said, looking directly at her. "Time and again they have saved my life and those of countless others."

"But no brown has ever flown a queen before!" Lessa exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"When Pern was threatened with extinction," I spoke to her, "who found the courage to travel to the past to bring the five missing weyrs forward to fight Thread? Surely, no one had ever done that before."

"Scared the blazes out of me when you did, too," F'lar said, taking Lessa's hand in his.

"No woman had ever Impressed a fighting dragon before until Path chose Mirrim," I continued. "No dragon or rider had ever been to the Red Star before until F'nor and Canth tried."

"And no man had ever Impressed a queen before until you and Tarnaa found each other," Lessa finished, a slight quirk of a smile turning up the corner of her lips.

"Weyrwoman, nothing is ever done the first time until someone finds the courage to try," I said, mustering all the fervor I could.

"No one's ever had the audacity to stand toe-to-toe with Benden's Weyrwoman in an argument before, either," F'nor remarked as he and Brekke emerged from the sleeping chamber.

Tears poured from my eyes as I looked at the two of them, so radiant in their happiness. I ran to them, embracing them both.

"Dana … sister …" Brekke wept, hugging me tightly, "thank you!"

"Told you he could do it," I said, smiling at them, my own happy tears falling freely.

"Well, you two certainly didn't make it easy for us," F'nor laughed, picking us both up in a bear hug. "Stars above, what a flight!"

"You think you're surprised!" I chuckled, my face ablush once more.

"How did you do that?" Brekke asked, meeting my gaze. "Wirenth and I could feel you with us … a light, a warmth that filled us with such strength. It was as if you had become Wirenth!"

Brekke's happy expression instantly turned worried as she felt me stiffen, tearful eyes becoming fearful, uncertain.

"What is it?" she asked, her expression mirroring F'nor's concern.

"I …" I stammered, hands trembling as I recalled, "I think I almost did."

"Did what?" L'trel prodded when I hesitated.

"Become Wirenth," I croaked, nearly choking on the terror that threatened to overwhelm me.

"I don't understand," Brekke responded, shaking her head.

A brown rocket whizzed by, blurring about my head. Bolter's worried keening filled the air, his eyes yellow with fear. Goldie joined him, sending uneasy ripples through the gathered riders.

"Dana?" Ryeena called out, skidding to a stop in front of us. "Sylene says you're frightened. Your eyes! What happened?"

"Oh, Ryeena," I sobbed, hugging her tightly, an anchor against my violent trembling. "I'm scared!"

Don't cry, Lifemate, Tarnaa trilled, twining her neck around the two of us, radiating love like a beacon. You are safe now.

"What happened?" Ryeena asked, pulling back a bit so she could look at me.

"Somehow," I managed to say, fighting back sobs that threatened to explode from me, "somehow my consciousness projected itself into Wirenth's body. At first, it felt so wonderful. I've never felt such power, such strength, such grace."

"Then why are you frightened?" Brekke wondered, taking one of my trembling hands in hers, F'nor taking the other.

"Because," I wept, looking at each of them in turn, barely controlling my sobbing, "the longer I stayed Wirenth, the more her thoughts, feelings, and emotions became mine. Spirits of my ancestors, Brekke, I was becoming your dragon!"

"But you didn't," she quietly said, hugging me to her. "Look. Tarnaa's still here. So it must still be you in there." And she tapped my forehead for emphasis.

Looking up, I met Tarnaa's worried eyes, her unfettered adoration pouring into me. Sobbing, I hugged her around the neck, weeping against her soft dragon flesh.

In that tender interlude, I finally managed to recall what had happened. At the very moment of Canth's and Wirenth's joining, in one searingly lucid moment, I had been so terrified of never seeing Tarnaa again that I had savagely and ruthlessly torn my consciousness away from the mating pair. Like a spring stretched to its limits and then released, my mind had snapped back into my body. Stars, no wonder I'd been so stunned and disoriented!

"Oh, my heart," I wept, caressing her golden hide, "I thought I was going to lose you!"

Nothing will take you from me, Lifemate, she softly hummed, nuzzling my tear-stained face. Ever.

"She's right, Dana," Lessa quietly spoke, resting a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Dragons can't lie."

Patting my golden lifemate affectionately, I turned to face Ramoth's rider.

"Weyrwoman," I haltingly began, wiping tears from my cheeks, "about Canth …"

She held up a hand to forestall any further comment.

"Someone once told me," Lessa said, glancing over at Ryeena, "that the right path isn't always the easiest one."

Pride in my young friend from Misty Hold brought fresh tears to my eyes as I smiled at her.

"It was easy to follow tradition," Lessa sighed, looking around her. "We had done it this way for so long, we had grown comfortable with it. But by following the easy path, we had lost track of reason and instinct along the way."

You knew Canth could do it, Ramoth injected.

"Should've trusted my instincts the way you did, Dana," Lessa chuckled. "They were screaming at me to allow Canth to fly. I just couldn't bring myself to go against tradition."

"I'm not saying tradition doesn't have its place, Weyrwoman," I remarked. "Just once in a while, an exception may need to be made."

Lessa turned to F'nor and Brekke, a sad sort of smile on her lips.

"We'll have our apartments cleared out by nightfall," she sighed, giving them both a hug. "You'll be able to move in first thing in the morning."

"But why would you need to move at all?" I asked, suddenly uneasy. "You two are the Weyrleaders!"

"The rider whose dragon flies the queen becomes Weyrleader," F'lar explained, nodding to his half-brother. "The queen's rider becomes Weyrwoman."

"Spirits of my ancestors, no!" I gasped, hand flying to my mouth.

"If it's all the same with you," F'nor interrupted, giving Brekke a hug, "we'd rather leave Pern in far more capable and experienced hands."

"Lessa, we never wanted the Weyr," Brekke said, returning her lover's embrace. "All F'nor and I ever wanted was each other. But Benden, even Pern, needs the two of you as Weyrleader and Weyrwoman."

"Where would Benden – or all of Pern, for that matter – be if not for the two of you?" F'nor asked, laying a hand on his half-brother's shoulder.

"By now a ravaged, lifeless cinder," Manora said as she appeared from the Bowl entrance, "consumed and decimated by Thread." Smiling as she gave each of them a warm hug, she added, "If it hadn't been for the two of you, all that the Ancients had sought to create on this world would have vanished forever!"

"Please, Lessa?" Brekke quietly begged, taking her hand as she sank to a knee. "Be Benden's Weyrwoman."

"F'lar?" F'nor spoke, extending his hand to him. "Still Weyrleader?"

"And what of you, dragon healer?" F'lar asked, turning to me. "Where do your loyalties lie?"

Smiling as I gave F'nor and Brekke a hug, I answered, "Where they will always remain, Weyrleader, with my friends!"

Stepping over beside Tarnaa, one hand on her neck, Goldie ensconced on my shoulder, I added, "I will always remember that it was from Benden that my lifemate came, but as a healer, my first duty must be to my craft and Hall."

"Well, you certainly proved that today," Lessa commented, one corner of her lips curled up in a smile.

"Weyrwoman, it was my gift that called Wirenth from between," I quietly spoke, eyes downcast. "By that act, I became responsible for all the pain and suffering F'nor and Brekke have endured. As a healer and their friend, I had to do something to help."

Don't be sad, Lifemate, Tarnaa gently hummed, easing her head under my arm, her eyes a loving violet, Goldie trilling reassuringly as she headstroked my cheek.

"I can only hope that one day you find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did," I sighed, hugging my two winged friends to me.

"Dana, …" Lessa spoke, gently taking my hands in hers.

"Weyrwoman," I answered, sniffling back a tear.

"After all you have done for the Dragonriders of Pern," she said, smiling warmly, "I could hardly stay angry with you for long. Of course, I forgive you."

"Thank you," I quietly answered, a tear of joy sliding down my cheek.

"Do you want F'lar and I to remain Weyrleader and Weyrwoman here at Benden?"

"I want only what is best for Pern," I replied, glancing from her to F'lar. "Who better to lead Benden Weyr than the two who were ultimately responsible for saving this world from annihilation?"

All the gathered dragonriders nodded agreement.

Turning his weyrmate to him, F'lar gently lifted Lessa's chin.

"Guess we won't have to move after all," he chuckled, wrapping her in a warm embrace.

Cheers and applause filled the little weyr apartment; all of the dragonriders gathering around F'lar and Lessa to offer their support. Soon, their attention shifted to F'nor and Brekke, congratulations and good wishes filling the air.

"Care to wager how many eggs will be in Wirenth's upcoming clutch, dragon healer?" Lessa asked, grinning broadly.

"Weyrwoman!" I exclaimed, feigning shock and dismay. "Surely you're not one of those who counts their dragons before they're shelled, are you?"

That got a laugh out of everyone.

"Still," I said, facing Brekke and F'nor, "I've a feeling there'll be more eggs in Wirenth's clutch than anyone expects."

F'nor and Brekke both smiled, their eyes atwinkle.

"Now, I'm no Bitran," I added, grinning wolfishly, "but I will wager you this. There'll be two queen eggs …"

"Two?!" someone sputtered.

"And …" I continued, grinning broadly at F'nor and Brekke, "I wager the first three to hatch will all be bronzes!"

"Queens and bronzes?!" another rider guffawed, several others joining in his laughter. "From a brown?"

F'nor bristled at the slight to his lifemate, taking a step forward, but Brekke quickly laid a restraining hand on his arm even as my own pressed against his chest.

"Yes," I growled, turning to face the insulting riders. "Need I remind you, bronze riders, that poor, unloved, misbegotten brown …"

Never unloved, Wirenth silently crooned, her thoughts overflowing with adoration for her mate.

"… outflew, outlasted, and outsmarted the lot of you to fly Wirenth!"

Some of the riders turned away, shifting their feet absently, embarrassed by that reminder.

"Canth may be only a brown, but he is without a doubt the largest and most magnificent brown on all of Pern!" I carried on, absolutely the biggest grin possible on my face as I looked at F'nor. "And today, for one day at least, he proved himself better than any bronze."

Outside, Canth thundered smugly in agreement.

Stepping over to the first of the snickering riders, I asked, "Care to make a little side bet on the outcome, K'rath?"

"What did you have in mind?" he wondered, a smirk curling his lips.

"One hundred marks to the winner," I replied without batting an eyelash.

Somewhere in the room, someone whistled in astonishment.

"And the loser?"

"One sevenday in each and every Weyr, mucking out the weyrling barracks … alone."

Murmurs of disbelief echoed in the little apartment.

"Well?" I demanded, looking at the rider.

K'rath hesitated a moment, his expression reflecting the calculations he was doing in his head, weighing the odds and so on.

"Done!" he finally said, extending his hand.

I took the hand, pumping it twice in the traditional manner, sealing the deal.

"A strong wager," F'lar remarked, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"A strong flight, Weyrleader," I replied, blushing furiously as I took F'nor's and Brekke's hands. "But their love for each other, both dragons and riders, was, by far, the strongest thing of all and well worth the risk in order to preserve it. I am certain no one will be disappointed with the clutch… no matter who ends up mucking out the barracks!"

"You will be there, won't you?" Brekke asked, hugging me tightly.

"Not even a planet-wide Threadfall would keep me from that happy moment, Sis!" I answered, grinning broadly as I returned her embrace.

Time passed, and when the moment finally came for Wirenth to clutch, she ended up laying an astonishing 39 eggs!

"Stars above!" Lessa whispered, staring in awe at the overwhelming number.

Brekke couldn't praise her beloved lifemate enough, and F'nor was all agrin with smug satisfaction! To top it all off, when Wirenth finally deigned to let anyone near the clutch, we discovered that she had, indeed, laid two massive queen eggs, putting an end to speculation on that part of my outlandish wager.

Hatching Day came all too soon, the tiers packed to bursting with Holders, Crafters, and Weyrfolk alike, all come to see what sort of hatchlings a brown-queen mating flight would produce. Having been an intimate part of most of it, I had no doubts about the outcome.

The gathered dragons began to hum, and, as they did, the eggs responded, rocking slowly at first and then with some urgency. Late-comers began racing across the sands to the tiers, hurrying to get the best view they could of the coming event.

Suddenly, the humming stopped, the Hatching Ground echoing with a collective gasp from the crowd. Faintly, a crackling sound could be heard. People in the tiers pointed excitedly as fissures could clearly be seen in one of the larger eggs. With a final resounding 'CRACK!', the shell burst open, and out of the shards emerged …

"A bronze!" the crowd gasped.

High above the sands on his viewing perch, Canth let loose a thunderous howl of pride and delight, Wirenth rumbling smugly along with him!

Then came the next surprise. To my own utter delight, the little bronze headed straight for Holder Gerrald's son, Bellar. The stunned delight on his face sent tears of joy cascading down my own as Gerrald's son Impressed the little bronze.

"When this is over, I must send word to his family," I managed to say around sniffles. "They'll be so proud!"

"Whoo hoo!" Ryeena called out, waving to her cousin. "Way to go, B'lar!"

Sitting on my right, Brekke gave my hand a grateful squeeze, her own tears falling freely. On my left, tears were also in F'nor's eyes, a proud and happy smile on his face.

"You can still back out of our bet," K'rath whispered from behind us.

"Worried?" I called back over my shoulder.

K'rath snorted but remained silent.

"But, Dana, what if you lose?" Brekke asked, giving my hand another squeeze.

"The bet means nothing, Sis," I sighed, gesturing at the activities on the Hatching Ground. "I won the moment Canth flew Wirenth!"

A second egg rocked violently, the shell fracturing into numerous pieces. To the accompaniment of many gasps and exclamations of disbelief, a second bronze emerged from the shards. Several lads rushed forward to right the hatchling as it overbalanced on its weak legs and fell. Crooning with delight, the little bronze nuzzled the smallest of the boys, Impression happening in the same instant.

At the same time, F'nor and Brekke seized me in a fierce embrace. Hardly surprising, for the small boy who had just Impressed was their son, Tillen, now bronze rider T'len.

"Only one to go," F'nor whispered, squeezing my hand as he planted a gentle kiss in my hair.

The third egg of Wirenth's clutch convulsed, splitting neatly in half. Every eye in the Hatching Ground turned my way as a third bronze staggered free of its shell. F'nor and Brekke threw their arms around me, hugging me tightly. On the sands, Wirenth bugled her elation, Canth echoing her cry from his viewing ledge above.

"Dana," K'rath mumbled, his voice sullen.

"Oh, don't worry about the bet," I said, turning to pat him on the knee. "A couple of spare marks will be just fine."

Sighing in relief, K'rath handed over the marks, his hand lingering on mine as he squeezed it gratefully.

In the end, a surprising number of the eggs hatched bronzes, more than anyone expected. Ramoth was beside herself with delight, having laid the egg Wirenth had hatched from. Even Mnementh seemed smug in that knowledge. But there was still one more surprise in store, one that I had had a hand in bringing about.

The day before the Hatching, I had made a rather surprising request. With the help of some of the local holders, many of whom had been at the Hatching the day Tarnaa and I had Impressed, three Benden dragons and riders were sent out to search for a very unusual guest. That same afternoon, a young woman was brought to my weyr, pale as death, her face tear-soaked.

"In there," T'gellan ordered, giving her a shove to get her feet moving.

"My thanks, T'gellan," I called after him. Turning to the woman, I asked, "What is your name?"

Tarnaa and Goldie instantly recognized our guest, hissing ominously the moment they laid eyes on her.

"Please, gold rider, my name is Mercina," she answered, dropping to her knees in fright. "Why have I been brought here?"

"To see justice done," I told her, pulling up a seat. "As I recall, your last visit to Benden Weyr very nearly cost you your life. Do you remember?"

Gulping loudly, the woman nodded.

"You were the one on the Hatching Ground that day who tried to Impress the queen, the one the Masterhealer had tried to refuse?"

If Mercina's face could have gotten any whiter, it did.

"Much has happened to both of us since that day," I sighed. "Look at my eyes."

The woman did … and gasped.

"The rider with the dragon eyes!" she whispered, backing away. "The masterhealer who called Wirenth from between! The one they say who changed into …"

"Into the woman you see before you," I finished for her.

Stark terror seized Mercina, her body trembling violently, her eyes so wide they seemed to dwarf her slender features.

"Mercy, my lady!" she cried, prostrating herself before me. "Truly, I meant no harm!"

Sliding out of my seat, I sat on the floor in front of her.

"Tell me what happened after you left here," I quietly beseeched her, slowly lifting her to a sitting position.

Thunderstruck, Mercina stared at me. Clearly, she had expected instant, searing death, but not this. Smiling kindly, I motioned for her to begin.

"My lady, you have no idea all that I have endured because of my one shameless moment of arrogance," she murmured, hands worrying in her lap, her eyes downcast.

"Then, please, tell me so I might understand," I said, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze.

And Mercina did … in exacting, heartbreaking detail. I was struck dumb by all that she told me. Her misfortunes had started the moment word reached her hold. She had been threatened, beaten, thrown out of her home, cruelly ostracized by family and friends alike. And all because she had dared to try to Impress a dragon.

"Yours was not an act of malice," I muttered, shaking my head in disgust, "but of desperate longing. In truth, who on Pern would not have done the same given the chance?"

Wordlessly, I rose to my feet then helped my visitor to hers.

"Mercina, please forgive me," I begged her, squeezing her hands. "I am truly sorry for what has happened to you because of me."

I waved Tarnaa over.

"Here," I said, taking Mercina's hand.

As I was about to place it on my lifemate's eye ridge, Tarnaa pulled back.

No, she growled, rumbling menacingly.

"My lady," Mercina spoke, smiling slightly, "it's okay. I understand."

"Well, it's not okay with me," I countered, turning to my dragon. "Search my heart, Tarnaa. Am I angry with her?"

No, she grunted.

"Search her heart, lifemate," I went on, gesturing toward Mercina. "Then tell me she deserved what happened to her."

Tarnaa whuffled Mercina up and down, her eyes slowly shading from angry red through uncertain orange to a neutral greeny blue.

You are right, lifemate, Tarnaa finally hummed, her eyes on my guest. I'm sorry.

Once more, I took Mercina's hand. This time, Tarnaa didn't move when I placed Mercina's hand on my lifemate's eye ridge.

At first, Mercina didn't move, her hand trembling. Then, with a very audible gulp, she began scratching Tarnaa's eye ridge. In moments, my dragon was humming contentedly, her eyes fully lidded with pleasure. Mercina sighed with relief.

I am sorry, Tarnaa hummed, nuzzling Mercina's face. Forgive me.

"My lady?" Mercina asked, clearly surprised by the display.

"She's just apologizing," I chuckled, patting my lifemate's neck. "Now that that's taken care of, will you allow me to make amends as well?"

"How?"

Without a word, I reached over on my bed and handed Mercina the white Candidate's tunic that was lying there.

For the longest time, Mercina stood there, dumbfounded, staring in utter disbelief at first the tunic then at me. Slowly, she took it, her hands trembling with awe.

The morning of the Hatching, she was near fainting as I led her out onto the Sands to join the other girls. Several of those in the tiers recognized who she was and began to taunt, heckle, and boo her. But Tarnaa's deafening roar of displeasure as she hovered above Mercina and I brought instant silence to the Hatching Ground.

With one last smile and a gentle squeeze of her hands, I made my way up into the tiers to watch the Hatching unfold.

I wasn't disappointed. Canth's and Wirenth's clutch was all I had hoped it would be and more. Seeing Holder Gerrald's son, Bellar, Impress the first bronze to hatch was a thrill. But nothing could match the leap of joy in my heart when the second queen to hatch moved unerringly to Mercina, the little queen's choice of lifemate startling everyone.

"Why?" Mercina asked, hugging her new lifemate as I came down to congratulate her. "After what I did to you, why?"

"As I told you … to see justice done," I quietly told her, giving the new queen a gentle scratch on her eye ridge. "You see, in all my travels around Pern, I never met a non-rider who didn't secretly long to Impress a dragon. The difference is, on that particular day, you alone out of all those in the tiers dared to do something about it. That took a great deal of courage and determination, worthy qualities in any dragonrider. If dreaming about Impressing a dragon is a crime, then we'd have to punish nearly everyone on Pern!"

"You can say that again!" B'lar exclaimed, giving his bronze Zidith a hug. "Stars know I got my backside smacked more than once when I was caught daydreaming about it when I should've been working."

"You should never have had to endure the hardships you did because of what happened that day, Mercina," I said. "Even then, I sensed a goodness in you, an aura that identified you as a mate to dragonkind. I just felt you deserved a second chance."

"I … I …" she stammered, finally bursting into sobs as she hugged her lifemate.

Turning to the visitors gathered in the tiers, I shouted, "Spread the word through every Hold, Hall, Craft, and Weyr. Tell all whom you meet that it was I who presented Mercina as a Hatching candidate."

"Having Impressed a queen," Lessa added, joining us on the sands, "she has proven beyond doubt her worth to dragonkind and restored her honor and that of her family."

"So spread the word to all who would listen," F'lar called loudly, smiling as he came up beside Mercina, "that she has earned the master dragon healer's favor … and that of Benden Weyr!"

"Count on us, Masterhealer, Weyrleaders," Lord Larad of Telgar shouted, raising a fist in the air. "The word will be spread!"

"Aye!" many others answered, mirroring the raised fist.

Bowing gratefully to them, F'lar, Lessa, and I turned and helped the latest queen rider lead her dragon out to the Weyr bowl to feed.


	26. Chapter 26 - Golden Fire!

Chapter 26

 _Golden Fire!_

 _ **What miracle is this?**_

 _ **Should we fear or expire?**_

 _ **No, just pay heed and marvel**_

 _ **At my heart's golden fire!**_

NO RIDER IGNORED THEIR DRAGON'S SUMMONS. So when Tarnaa insisted on a little flying, we went. Our destination turned out to be an escarpment not far from the Weyr; the land breathtakingly spread out below us. It was nice to get out of the Weyr, even for a little while. The exercise was good for Tarnaa and lifted my spirits immensely.

"Oh, Tarnaa, it's beautiful!" I sighed, sliding down her side to the ground.

 _Just like the others said,_ she hummed. Then, moving off to explore, she added, _Wonder what else is up here?_

Chuckling, I watched her go. For months, the two of us had been popping about the planet, going wherever my surgical skills were needed, whether for dragon or human. And I went, happily, for I was living my dream, doing work where I felt both needed and useful. How many others could say the same?

For the wounded, it also meant near instantaneous medical assistance since we were able to 'port anywhere on the planet in a matter of seconds.

Still, the pace we'd been keeping to was starting to tell. I was tired almost constantly now, and Tarnaa, though she'd never admit it, was beginning to show signs of fatigue. Something would have to be done and soon. We wouldn't be able to keep up this pace much longer.

What Pern really needed were more skilled surgeons. Master Oldive had picked up some of the techniques while Ryeena and I had still been at the Healer Hall. But all of that had come to a bone-jarring halt the moment Tarnaa and I had Impressed. The coma following Wirenth's resurrection only exacerbated the situation. Many holders, crafters, and weyrfolk had died during that time, people who might have survived if I'd been there, and it tore me up inside every time I let myself think about it.

 _You saved Darla and Laneth,_ Tarnaa reminded me. _You saved Wirenth, Barnath and many others since then. No one blames you for what happened during the changing time. You are too hard on yourself._

One thing about being a dragonrider. No matter how depressed you might get, your lifemate was always there to cheer you up.

 _As it should be,_ Tarnaa added.

Though heartened, I was still troubled. From the moment Tarnaa had been able to take to the skies, we had tried to make up for the lives that had been lost. But Pern was vast, and even with the help of the local healers, I was kept at an almost constant run. There was just too much work for me to handle alone.

I had a few ideas on how to deal with the problem. Several of the weyrlings from Wirenth's clutch had shown an interest in the healing arts. And, if regional healer halls could be set up across the two continents to care for the infirm …

CRUNCH! A sudden explosion of sound like a gunshot echoing across the escarpment shattered the pristine silence.

"Tarnaa, what are you doing?!" I exclaimed, hurrying around a rock outcropping.

 _Chewing_ , she cryptically replied.

"Chewing what?" I wondered, skidding to a halt beside her.

Her front paws shifted nervously. Taking a closer look, I spotted a small pile of firestone partially hidden beneath.

"Oh, Tarnaa, you great silly," I laughed, slapping her on the neck. "Queens don't chew firestone!"

 _Why not?_

"They don't have the necessary internal organs to digest it and produce the fiery gas, love," I chuckled, hugging her around the muzzle.

Goldie flitted around above us, scolding her larger cousin for being such a wherry.

 _I feel funny_.

"Tarnaa, what's wrong?" I asked, suddenly worried.

 _I don't know, I …_

An ominous rumbling rose up from deep in her throat. It was the firestone, it had to be. She was going to be sick.

"Tarnaa, quick! Turn your head before … Oh, Shards!"

Diving to one side, two things happened in that eternal split second. I felt an intense flash of heat across my back and heard Goldie's terrified shriek. The next instant, I'm rolling in the dirt. By the time I finally regained my senses and glanced back at Tarnaa, I couldn't believe what I was seeing! The ground where I'd just been standing was smoldering; tendrils of smoke dancing on the breeze. A bush that had been behind me was aflame, the ground beyond it scorched black for nearly a dragonlength!

"By the First Egg!" I whispered, my eyes bugging out.

 _Was that_ … _did I_ …

How could this be? Dazed and disbelieving, I staggered to my feet, brushing the dust off as I stumbled towards Tarnaa.

 _Lifemate?_ She was trembling all over, clearly unnerved by the experience.

"It's okay, my heart, you're alright," I assured her, my own knees shaking as I leaned against her.

Through my empathic touch, I tried to sense if anything was wrong but felt nothing unusual. If that was true… Gasping, I stared at my dragon. Spirits of my ancestors, that would mean …

 _Did I just_ …

"You sure did!" I exclaimed, my arms wrapped around her muzzle in a fierce embrace. "Stars above, what a blast!"

I shook my head in wonder, amazed at the distance the flames had traveled.

"Tarnaa, mighty golden dragon," I sighed, scratching her eye ridges, "first queen on all of Pern to breathe fire!"

 _I did, didn't I?_ she rumbled, obviously pleased with herself.

Lessa would never believe this. Ancestors, I wasn't sure I believed it!

"We must be careful, my heart," I said, lovingly caressing her side. "Chewing firestone renders greens sterile. We don't know what it will do to you."

 _I'm not worried,_ Tarnaa hummed, gently nuzzling my arm. _You are a master healer and my rider._

Yes, I was, and nothing in this universe would make me risk her life. I threw my arms around Tarnaa's neck, hugging her tightly.

"Now, we'd best hurry home, love," I said, readying my fighting straps. "We'll be missed if we're gone too long."

We stayed just long enough for Tarnaa to regurgitate the remains of the digested firestone, and then we were a-wing, soaring high on the winds back to the weyr, our spirits soaring even higher.

But halfway there, I suddenly diverted Tarnaa _between_ to a deserted beach at Ista. I sent her into the surf and then joined her, scooping up handfuls of sand to scrub the pervasive smell of firestone from her hide. If we'd gone straight home …

When we finally returned to the Weyr, Ryeena was there to meet us. "Where've you two been?"

"Out," I answered, sliding down Tarnaa's side. "Why? What's up?"

"You need to check your flame thrower," Ryeena replied, leading the way back to our weyrs. "Fall's due tomorrow down Nerat way. We need to be ready… just in case."

"Ryeena, wait," I said, seizing her arm.

"What?" she wondered, taking in my odd expression. "Alright, out with it. Something's up. I can see it on your face!"

How was I going to explain without giving away our secret? I looked about. No one was in sight.

"Come on," I whispered.

"Hey!" Ryeena exclaimed as I practically dragged her at a run back into my apartment.

"Dana, what's going on?" she demanded as I drew the curtain across the opening to my sleep quarters.

"Ssshh!" I hissed, turning pleading eyes her way. "Ryeena, please, I must have your word that you won't tell anyone about this!"

"Tell anyone what?" she wondered, her curiosity piqued.

"Ryeena, please!" I beseeched her, taking her hands in mine.

"Oh, alright," she relented. "I swear. Now what's this all about?"

Releasing her hands, I sank back on the bed rushes. "Something happened while Tarnaa and I were up on Glory Escarpment," I began, my heart fluttering beneath my ribs.

"You went to the escarpment?"

I nodded.

"What happened?"

"I can't tell you. You'd never believe it. I'm still not sure I believe it! I'll have to show you. Get Sylene. We need to take a short flight. C'mon."

Ryeena hesitated a moment but then nodded. As we were mounting our dragons, Bolter and Goldie swirling above us, the weyrlingmaster came over.

"Not too much flying, you two!" he called out as we cinched down our fighting straps. "You'll wear your dragons out!"

"We'll be careful!" Ryeena called down as our lifemates leaped skyward, their great gossamer wings kicking up a cloud of dust.

Higher and higher we climbed, clearing the rim of Benden's crater in a breathtaking rush. Then, we turned, heading off towards the escarpment. In no time, we were spiraling down to its summit.

"Okay, we're here," Ryeena said as we landed. "Now what's this all about?"

"C'mon," I answered, sliding down Tarnaa's side.

As I led Ryeena away, Tarnaa headed off to another part of the escarpment.

"Now what's so important and secret that you practically dragged me up here?" Ryeena wondered as we made our way around several rock outcroppings.

I pointed.

"So?" Ryeena shrugged. "Someone's dragon regurgitated firestone. So what?"

Off in the distance, a faint crunching sound could be heard. I pointed again.

"So the rock is scorched," Ryeena sighed, shrugging. "It just means someone's been up here teaching their dragon to chew firestone. That's not unusual."

Tarnaa lumbered over, her eyes a slowly whirling red, Goldie and Bolter swirling above her, trilling excitedly.

"Ryeena, that day back at the Harper Hall when I first spoke to T'ledon's dragon," I began explaining, "I lied to you and Silvina when I said I didn't know who had done it."

"Well, you've explained all that to me already," she remarked, absently rubbing my dragon's neck.

Tarnaa's throat began a quiet, ominous rumbling.

"Ryeena, you're my friend," I said, taking her hands in mine. "Even after I lied to you about Serith, you remained my friend. I swore that day that I would never lie to you ever again."

In the air above us, Goldie and Bolter swirled and dove, the escarpment echoing with their excited cries.

"Lie to me?" Ryeena wondered, her brow furrowed with concern. "About what?" Gesturing to our circling fire lizards, she added, "What's with them?"

I turned to my dragon. "Show her, my heart."

"Yeeps!" Ryeena shrieked, ducking behind me as Tarnaa, refueled by fresh firestone, reduced a nearby bush to ash.

"By the First Egg!" my fellow queen rider whispered, awestruck as she stepped out from behind me.

She stared at Tarnaa, mouth hanging open, her eyes threatening to pop from their sockets. Then, she whirled, looking first at the regurgitated firestone and then the scorched swath of rock.

"But … but this is … impossible!" she finally stammered, turning back to me. "Queens can't breathe fire! How did you …"

"I didn't," I assured her. "At first, I thought Tarnaa merely brought me up here to admire the view. I didn't know what she was really up to until it was too late. And then, … Whoooosh!" I gestured at the scorched rock. "I don't know who was more surprised, her or me!"

Goldie, meanwhile, had landed on Tarnaa's neck ridge, nuzzling her giant cousin as she hummed her congratulations. Off in the distance, I heard that familiar crunching sound, but if my lifemate was beside me, then who …

"Where's Sylene?"

"Sylene, no!" Ryeena exclaimed, taking off at a run through the scattered boulders.

Sure enough, when we finally reached Ryeena's dragon, she was busy chewing firestone, a small pile of the rocks on the ground in front of her, Bolter circling above her, calling out encouragement.

 _Will she breathe fire, too?_ Tarnaa wondered as she came up behind us.

"Ryeena, wait!" I cautioned my friend, a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Don't get too close."

 _Lifemate, I feel funny,_ Sylene complained, swinging her head our way.

"Look out!" I exclaimed, shoving Ryeena aside.

And none too soon! We barely got clear before her dragon spewed … scorching the earth where we'd just been standing with a blast of dragon fire!

"Shards and Shells!" Ryeena gasped, staring dumbfounded at her queen.

 _Lifemate_ …

"Go to her, Ryeena," I said, gently nudging my friend toward her dragon. "She seems as unnerved as Tarnaa was."

Several minutes passed as my friend soothed her lifemate, the two of them trembling with shock while Goldie and Bolter circled above, calling out their congratulations.

 _I didn't know I could do that!_ Sylene rumbled.

"Neither did I!" Ryeena sighed, her legs having finally quit shaking. "Dana, what does this mean?"

"I wish I knew," I replied, giving Tarnaa's eye ridge a scratch.

"Lessa will freak when she finds out," Ryeena muttered.

"Well, she's not going to find out," I firmly declared, pounding Tarnaa's neck affectionately. "At least not until we've had a chance to teach our dragons how to breathe fire properly."

It took the four of us months to finally get it right. In between riding Falls with the queen's wing or performing surgery on those who needed it, it was nearly impossible to find time to sneak away to practice. We would have to tell someone one day, but how to do it without scaring them out of their boots?

One morning, Ryeena burst into my apartment. "Dana! We've got an emergency!"

"What's up?" I wondered, yanking Tarnaa's riding harness off the peg as we hurried out to her weyr.

"We've got a dragon and rider down on the Tillek peninsula," she informed me.

Chills shot up and down my spine. "There's Fall over Tillek today! Who?"

Ryeena didn't say a word. The tears pouring down her face were enough.

"Ancestors, no!" I gasped, rocking back on my heels.

Due to recent injuries, High Reaches was under strength and had asked for assistance from the other Weyrs. Ryeena's cousin, B'lar, had been one of those who had volunteered to fly with them today.

"Go! I'll meet you above the Star Stones!"

With a speed borne of desperation, I strapped the riding harness on Tarnaa. Fastening my riding belt about my waist, I grabbed my emergency pack from the peg by the door and hurried out.

Ryeena was just getting airborne as I dashed across the Weyr bowl to the firestone bunker. When I emerged, I had two full sacks slung over my shoulder, another two in hand. Tarnaa was waiting.

With a quick boost from her foreleg, I was astride her neck ridge, settling the firestone sacks I had in my hand on the ridge in front of me. Fastening my riding belt into Tarnaa's harness, I did a thorough scan of the air immediately above me and then signaled her aloft.

 _Selgrith knows where the downed pair are,_ Sylene reported as I came alongside Ryeena and her dragon. _She gave me the location._

 _I have it now,_ Tarnaa reported as Sylene relayed the sighting.

Giving Ryeena the firestone transfer signal, she moved to intercept. Once she was in range, I flipped the two sacks from my shoulder to her. She caught them well, and then we spiraled higher, feeding firestone to our dragons as we went. Once we'd gained a safe altitude, I circled my arm over my head then brought it down in a cutting motion, and the four of us winked _between_.

Misty Hold was directly below as we emerged. On the northeast horizon was Leading Edge, flashes of dragon fire already visible. It wouldn't be long before we were under it.

Coming in low over Gerrald's cot, we spotted Ryeena's uncle waving frantically toward the field where I'd vaporized that rock outcropping. I spotted Selgrith with Pilgra nearby, both working to help … My heart sank as I recognized Zidith, B'lar's bronze.

Tarnaa and Sylene needed no urgings from us. They dove earthward, kicking up a monstrous cloud of dust as they abruptly broke their descent and backwinged to a landing directly in front of the wounded dragon and rider.

"B'lar!" Ryeena screamed, sliding down her queen and dashing over to where her cousin lay crumpled in a heap on the ground.

 _We will keep watch,_ Tarnaa informed me as I handed the firestone sacks to her.

 _Use this only as a last resort, my heart,_ I warned her before hurrying to join Ryeena.

Zidith's right mainsail was in tatters and there were Threadscores down one side of his neck right where the riding harness would have been. The remains were still attached to B'lar's riding belt. He must've been thrown from his dragon, coming down awkwardly and hard on the plowed earth.

"Dana, I …" Pilgra stammered, tears in her eyes.

"Don't blame yourself, Weyrwoman," I told her, slipping my emergency pack from my shoulders.

"But why did it have to be him?"

As I methodically went over every square inch of his body, I told her, "B'lar knew the risks when he volunteered to fly with High Reaches. He wouldn't have been recommended by his wingleader if he hadn't been capable."

"If only we hadn't been under strength from that last Fall," Pilgra muttered, shaking her head.

"What's done is done, Pilgra," I said, seizing her arm. "B'lar is still alive. The best way you can help now is to make certain no Thread gets through. Go! Leading Edge is nearly on us!"

"He's my responsibility. I'm staying!"

"Then help Zidith," I told her, shoving a jar of numbweed into her hands. "Ryeena and I will take care of B'lar!"

With a final uncertain glance at Ryeena's cousin, Pilgra hurried off to do what she could to help his dragon.

"Dana?" Ryeena whimpered, looking down at her cousin cradled in her lap.

"We'll do everything we can for him," I replied, trying to sound more reassuring than I felt.

"What can we do to help?" a new voice spoke. "By the First Egg! Bellar!"

Holder Gerrald had come up behind us, Nylene and the hold children bringing up the rear, all of them armed with flame-throwers.

"Bellar!" Nylene screamed, running forward, but Ryeena moved quickly to intercept her aunt.

"Dana's the best chance he has," Ryeena said, struggling to keep her aunt at bay. "Please, you've got to stay clear so she can work!"

"Leading Edge is nearly on us, Lady Nylene," I said as I worked on her son. "If you want to help, then use those flame throwers to keep Thread away!"

"Uncle, send some of the kids to help Weyrwoman Pilgra," Ryeena suggested. "They can provide Thread protection while she does what she can to help Zidith."

"I'm on it," Mostef spoke up. "Varla, Nanya, you other three, let's go!"

"Oh, Gerrald!" Nylene sobbed, looking past Ryeena at her injured son.

"Honor those the dragons heed, in thought and favor, word and deed, Auntie," Ryeena injected. "If you would honor your son, then help us provide Thread protection so that Dana can work without worrying."

"Of course," Nylene sniffled, hefting her flame-thrower. "I'm sorry. Thank you, sweetheart."

"Thankfully, Lady Nylene, your husband is so conscientious about plowing his fields," I remarked, removing some supplies from my pack. "This ground may be hard, but the plowed furrows your son landed on helped absorb some of the impact. He's not as badly injured as it seems."

"That's a matter of opinion," B'lar groaned, looking up at me.

"Bellar!" Nylene sobbed, tears of joy running down her face.

"It's B'lar now, Mother," he corrected her, "bronze Zidith's rider."

"I … I'm sorry. Forgive me, bronze rider."

"I don't believe you!" I growled, glaring at B'lar. "Your mother's near out of her mind with worry and you have the gall to correct her about your name?"

"Yes, but …"

"Don't let pride and arrogance be your undoing, B'lar," I warned him, furious at his attitude. "The Teaching Songs may say ' _Honor those the dragons heed,_ ' but never forget that honor must be earned! Or have you forgotten that there's another Teaching Song that goes, ' _Dragonman, avoid excess_?'"

"Gold rider, it's …"

"No, Mother, she's right," B'lar sighed, looking her way. "I'm beginning to see that being a dragonrider doesn't make you special. What you do as a dragonrider does. I'd forgotten that song. Guess it just took someone beating it into my head to remind me."

"You're welcome," I chuckled, shifting my pack out of the way. "Now try not to move. I need to set this break in your leg before I can do anything else."

"Fellis?" Ryeena suggested.

"Too risky," I replied. "With a fall like he had, there's the possibility of some unseen injury. Until we can get him stabilized and transported to safety, I don't dare give him anything that could adversely affect his condition."

I glanced to the northeast. Leading Edge was only moments away.

"You help B'lar, Masterhealer," Gerrald said, hefting his flame thrower. "We'll keep the Thread away."

 _Zidith? How are you doing?_ I inquired.

 _Worry about my rider,_ his dragon replied, a bit of his agony slipping through. _I can wait_.

"Ready?" I asked B'lar as I took hold of his broken leg.

He nodded.

"Errrrr!" he loudly groaned through gritted teeth as I repositioned his leg into correct alignment.

"Redwort," I requested, examining the site where B'lar's broken leg had punctured the skin.

B'lar said something unintelligible as I swabbed the wound with the stinging antiseptic. The puncture would still have to be closed before the leg could be splinted.

A shadow swept across the field, day becoming dusk as Leading Edge moved past. The air filled with the sounds of dragons roaring, jetting fire, swerving, and diving.

"Suture!" I called out.

Ryeena slapped one into my hand. B'lar looked as if he was about to color the air around us with a stream of invective but wisely just clenched his teeth and grunted as I slipped the stinging needle through his torn flesh. Once I had the wound closed, I slathered the site with a generous dollop of numbweed, then I broke out the portable splint and bound up his leg to keep it from moving.

"Mostef, we need you!" I shouted. "Right, let's get him to the cot."

"Move it!" Pilgra urged as Gerrald and his eldest son picked B'lar up between them.

We moved en masse, dragons and humans, toward the protection of Holder Gerrald's cot. We had nearly reached the porch when Varla screamed, "Look out!"

Misty Hold was on the perimeter of today's Fall, the dragon coverage much less so far out. A large, knotted tangle of Thread was dropping straight down on our heads.

They may never have flown Thread before, but our queens' instincts proved more than up to the task. Swiveling their heads up simultaneously, Tarnaa and Sylene both flamed, reducing the monstrous mass of Thread to a shower of cinders that rained down on us. The humans were deathly silent as our dragons turned to regard them.

"Crackdust!" B'lar hissed, wide-eyed in astonishment. "How did they …"

"Dana?" Pilgra whispered, clearly as unnerved as the others. "What did we just see?"

"Later," I responded, not meeting her gaze. "Gerrald, get B'lar inside. Make sure he's comfortable. Ryeena and I will join you as soon as we've taken care of Zidith."

Quickly, I turned away but, regrettably, not fast enough to avoid seeing the fear on all their faces.

The damage to Zidith's mainsail was bad. He'd be out of action for awhile but, fortunately, the damage was within my ability to repair. The hard part now would be figuring out how to undo the fear I'd seen after our dragons' fiery display.

The Fall was just ending as Ryeena and I finished patching up Zidith. That done, we headed back to the cot to check on B'lar. I was just setting foot on the cot's porch when the door swung open, Gerrald appearing in the doorway.

"I think you'd better leave," he grunted.

His words were like ice, the loathing in his eyes freezing me in my tracks. Speechless, I slowly backed down the steps, picked up my pack, and moved in a despairing daze to Tarnaa.

"But, Uncle," Ryeena murmured, stunned by what was happening.

"Go."

We did, tears pouring down my face as Tarnaa took us _between_ back to Benden Weyr. There, things just seemed to go from bad to worse.

"Shells, what've you two been up to?!" Lessa complained, fanning her face as Ryeena and I landed astride our dragons. "You both reek of firestone!"

"Want to explain those sacks?" R'del, the weyrlingmaster, demanded as he came up beside Lessa.

That's when Benden's Weyrwoman realized both our dragons were carrying them. "Alright, explain! Where'd you two get the firestone?"

"The bunker," R'del informed her, thumbing across the Weyr bowl as he frowned up at us. "I had a report from one of the fosterlings that Dana here took off with four full sacks, but I didn't want to believe it till now."

"Please, I can explain," I told them as I undid my riding belt.

"I can hardly wait," Lessa growled as I slid down Tarnaa's side.

"Weyrwoman, I …" I muttered, my hand resting on my dragon's neck. "Ancestors, it wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Explain," Lessa demanded, folding her arms across her chest. "And it better be good!"

"Tarnaa, Sylene, show them," I ordered, pointing to a nearby boulder.

The searing twin blasts of fire from our dragons forced us to back away from the conflagration, the intense heat causing the rock to momentarily incandesce. Ramoth's startled bugle mirrored her rider's own astonishment.

"Shards of my dragon's egg!" R'del gasped, eyes bulging from their sockets.

"But … this is … this is …" Lessa stammered.

"Impossible," I finished, nodding to her.

 _How can this be?_ Ramoth rumbled, her thoughts echoing her obvious confusion.

"What's going on?" F'lar demanded as he came running up. "Mnementh says Ramoth is in a state!"

Lessa turned to us.

"Sylene," Ryeena quietly spoke, nodding toward the boulder.

"Tarnaa," I added, doing the same.

This time, the twin blasts of fire caused the boulder to splinter under the enormous thermal stress.

"By the First Egg!" F'lar hissed, bug-eyed with disbelief.

"How … how long have they …" Lessa stammered.

"A few months now," I sighed, stroking my dragon's neck. "Tarnaa took me up to Glory Escarpment. I thought she just wanted to show me the view. She got into some firestone while we were there. The next thing I knew … Whoosh!"

"Dana brought Sylene and me to the escarpment to tell us about it," Ryeena continued, coming up beside me. "While we were there, Sylene tried some of the firestone, too. She nearly toasted us in our boots!"

"Fire-breathing queens?!" Lessa gasped, staring at our two dragons.

"But that's …" F'lar began.

"Ramoth, did you know?" Lessa asked.

 _No_ , her dragon replied, clearly unnerved by this disturbing development.

Suddenly, the bowl was alive; the air above us filled with every dragon in the Weyr! Startled by their sudden appearance, Goldie and Bolter vanished _between_.

Hot on the heels of the dragons came their riders. And right behind them came the weyrfolk, young and old, all eager to find out what all the excitement was about. Unused to such crowds, confused and panicky from the sudden attention, Tarnaa and Sylene belched gouts of flame skyward, the circling dragons scattering with loud yowls of surprise, the weyrfolk diving for cover.

"TARNAA, NO!" I screamed, hugging her neck, stroking it to calm her.

"Easy, Sylene!" I heard Ryeena call out. "It's okay."

An eerie, terrifying silence descended over the bowl, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on end. Looking about, I saw the weyrfolk backing away. They were staring at us, their faces a mix of surprise and … and … Spirits of my ancestors, it couldn't be! But there it was, clearly visible on every face, in every eye … just like at Misty Hold. They were afraid ... of us!

"I'm sorry!" I sobbed, nearly blinded by the tears that suddenly sprang to my eyes.

It was too much to bear. With another sob, I leaped up, seized Tarnaa's fighting straps, and swung myself into position on her neck ridges.

"Forgive us!" I croaked as Tarnaa sprang skyward.

"Dana, wait!" Lessa cried out.

Consumed by grief, I was barely aware of giving Tarnaa a fix before we were enveloped by the cold of _between_.


	27. Chapter 27 - Cove Hold

Chapter 27

 _Cove Hold_

ANCESTORS, HOW I CRIED! Even in the cold of between! Too distraught by the fear I'd witnessed on the faces of the Benden weyrfolk, I never noticed how the journey seemed to take a little longer than usual.

Emerging from between, the warm moist air of the Southern Continent was there to greet us. With a surprising gentleness, my lifemate came to rest on a stretch of sand along a picturesque, peaceful cove. But the idyllic surroundings offered no comfort. I was too upset, slumped forward against my lifemate's neck, wailing forlornly.

Don't be sad, lifemate. Maybe he can help you.

He?

"Are you alright, miss?"

Wiping back tears, I looked down to find a stately elderly man standing on the sands nearby; a bronze fire lizard comfortably perched on his shoulder.

"I've had so many visitors here of late," he said, holding up his hand to help me dismount, "one more shouldn't do me any harm."

"For … forgive me," I managed to say, sniffling back a tear. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Don't give it another thought, my dear," was his ready assurance as he waved my concern aside, his warm pleasant smile easing the ache in my heart. "Now, why don't you come on down and we'll enjoy a nice, cool fruit drink together."

Tall, handsome in spite of his apparent age, with a rich baritone voice, I was sure I'd never met this stranger before, and yet … Well, wherever I knew him from, his calm demeanor and warm smile made me relax and smile in return.

"Best take the riding harness off your lovely companion," the stranger suggested as I slid down Tarnaa's side. "She'll be able to swim and sun without ruining them."

Tarnaa certainly liked the idea. The moment the straps were off, she took wing, spraying us with sand as she flew out over the waters of the cove before diving in.

"And now, my dear," the man said, offering me his arm, "let us retire inside so that you can regale me with the tale of what has made you so melancholy."

His lodging was very spacious and ideally suited to the climate of this continent. Retrieving the promised fruit drink from an ingenious little cooler, he poured me a generously sized glass then one for himself before joining me in the sitting room. Then, without a word, he picked up a set of reed pipes and began to play a quiet little tune. A smile lit my face when I realized it was 'The Fire Lizard Song.' Soon, I was nodding to the rhythm, my fingers tapping out the beat on the arm of the chair.

"Oh, that was wonderful!" I sighed when he had finished.

"Now then, my dear," he said, arranging himself comfortably in his chair, his little bronze companion perched on a padded rest on the chair's back, "what brings you weeping to my front door?"

"I … that is, we, my dragon and I," I stammered, struggling to put into words the pain I had felt, "frightened some weyr friends of ours. We didn't mean to."

"Of that I am certain, my dear," he assured me, smiling warmly. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Something no one expected," I sighed, taking a generous sip of the fruit juice.

"The unexpected usually startles, not frightens," he quietly remarked, his little bronze friend chirping agreement.

"Would you be startled … or frightened," I asked, looking directly at him, "by a fire-breathing queen?"

The stranger stared at me for a long moment, his eyes enormous with disbelief. "Fire-breathing, you say? How is that possible?"

"Truly, sir, I wish I knew," I muttered, staring at the ripples in my glass of juice.

"Fire-breathing," he whispered, considering the possibility. "Never heard of a queen doing that before. Which weyr did this happen at, my dear?"

"Benden."

"It must have been quite an incident to frighten Lessa," the man remarked, rubbing his chin.

"You know the Weyrwoman?"

"Very well," he replied, a gentle smile on his face. "And I can assure you she doesn't frighten easily, if at all! Please, go on."

"My friend and I were showing Lessa what our dragons could do," I explained.

"Does your friend also ride a fire-breathing queen?"

I nodded.

"We had just finished showing F'lar our dragons' unexpected gifts when the air above us exploded with every dragon in the Weyr!" I told him, tears coming anew. "Worse, it seemed like every person in the Weyr showed up to see what was going on. Our dragons panicked, belching flames skyward."

I'm sorry, lifemate, Tarnaa sent, her tone full of sorrow.

It's alright, my heart, I assured her, love and adoration in every syllable.

"Were any of the other dragons hit?" the man worriedly inquired.

"No, thank goodness," I sighed, taking another sip of the juice. "But the looks on the faces of the weyrfolk …"

The rekindled memory proved too much to bear. I burst into tears, sobbing anew.

"There, there, my dear," the stranger said, coming over to give me a comforting hug. Abruptly, he pulled back, looking at me. "That pin you're wearing … where did you get it?"

"It … it was given to me," I sniffled, fighting back the tears, "several Turns back when I was made a masterhealer."

"A masterhealer?" he repeated.

"A master dragon healer, actually," I explained, setting the juice glass down. "You see, ever since I first arrived on Pern, I discovered that I could speak to any dragon."

"A rare gift indeed!" my companion remarked, his eyes growing wider, his tiny bronze friend squawking in surprise.

"I also have experience in various surgical techniques," I continued, gesturing with my hands. "When a wounded queen and her rider crashed not far from a hold my friend and I were visiting, I was able to put my gift and surgical knowledge to good use saving the queen's life and that of her rider."

"Ah, I see," my host commented, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Then you are a veterinary surgeon … like Lady Moreta."

"A truly remarkable woman, sir," I said, feeling a hint of color come to my cheeks. "You humble me beyond words comparing me to such an honored person."

"A moment ago," my host remarked, his eyes sparkling with keen interest, "you said, 'Ever since I first arrived on Pern …' Where exactly is it you hail from?"

"The home world of the Ancients, as the people of Pern call them … from Earth."

"Earth?!" the stranger gasped, turning to his fire lizard. "By the First Egg! You hear that, Zair?"

The little bronze was just as surprised as his human companion, squawking his disbelief.

Zair? Curse my memory, where had I heard that name before? Glancing about, I felt my heart leap to my throat as I suddenly realized why this place looked so familiar. It was Cove Hold! And the glass that I'd been drinking from … pure blue crystal, the surface finely etched with the Masterharper's emblem.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I gasped, leaping to my feet.

"Take it easy, my dear," the man spoke, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "What's the matter?"

Lifemate, what is wrong? Tarnaa anxiously sent from the cove. What frightens you?

"Your dragon seems very concerned," the man remarked, eyeing me closely. "What troubles you, child?"

Whirling, I stared, open-mouthed in disbelief. By my revered ancestors, now I knew why this man seemed so familiar! This hold, the glass I'd been drinking from, the stranger's bronze fire lizard … They all pointed to one insane, inescapable conclusion. This really was Cove Hold, but somehow, impossibly, in the time of …

"Master Robinton?" I squeaked, barely able to utter a sound.

"Yes, I'm Robinton."

That was the last thing I remembered before finding myself resting on a bed in another part of the Hold.

"Easy, my child, you're safe."

He was there, sitting on the bed next to me; his concerned, caring face gazing down at me. Impossibly, heart-stoppingly real. Masterharper Robinton!

"What …"

"You fainted," he said, answering my unfinished question.

Tarnaa? I silently inquired.

I am here, lifemate.

Stay hidden, my heart, I cautioned her. You mustn't be seen.

"And now, my dear, perhaps you could tell me where, or should I say when, are you from?" he asked, understanding in his eyes. "Oh, you needn't worry. I know dragons can 'time' it. More than once, that unique draconic ability has saved Pern and its people from their own foolishness."

Time it?! Spirits of my ancestors, he couldn't possibly mean … Dragons can teleport across time as well as space?!

"You come from our future, don't you?" he asked, nodding understanding. "I can see it on your face." And then, he gasped, leaning closer to me. Zair, his bronze, chirruped inquisitively as he scrambled down Master Robinton's arm for a better look. "Your eyes!"

"Please, do not look at them!" I begged, turning away.

I felt his gentle hand beneath my cheek. Though I knew I should resist, my heart would not let me as he turned my face toward him.

"How did this happen?" he wondered, studying my eyes closely.

"Masterharper, please, I must leave!" I beseeched him, my eyes I knew turning a frightened shade of yellow. "The longer I stay, the greater the risk!"

She is awake, lifemate, a familiar dragon commented, my heart nearly stopping when I realized whose it was.

"So, Master Robinton, how is your mysterious visitor doing?" a somewhat younger Lessa asked as she entered the room.

"Ancestors, no!" I croaked.

The sight of the younger Benden Weyrwoman sent me diving out a nearby window, desperate to escape before I did any further damage. I didn't get far. Rounding a corner of the cottage, there was a brief smell of dragonscent and a flash of gold just before I slammed into something with so much force, I was unconscious before my body collapsed to the sands.

Sometime later, through the haze of a throbbing headache, I slowly became aware of the feel of a bed beneath me. Master Robinton was there, sitting beside me on the bed, his face lined with worry. Tarnaa was peering in through the window, her eyes an anxious yellow.

"Easy, my dear," Robinton soothed me, a gentle yet firm hand holding me down while he changed the cool compress on my forehead. "That was quite a bump you took."

"How … how long?" I managed to whisper.

"Several hours," he replied. "You really had us worried."

"Master Robinton, please, I can't stay!"

"And you can't leave, either," Lessa quietly told me as she entered the room. "The risk of you traveling between with the beating your head took is just too great."

I looked at her … and looked again before gasping.

"Yes, Dana, this is the Lessa from your time," Robinton informed me.

"How do you know my …"

"Your dragon told me," Robinton replied. "She's been very worried about you."

You needed this place, lifemate, Tarnaa told me, and him.

"Ancestors, what did I hit?" I moaned, rubbing my aching forehead.

"Ramoth," Lessa chuckled. "You two banged heads!"

And it hurt! her dragon complained.

"That must have been some impact!" Robinton chuckled as Lessa's dragon peered in through another window.

The room swimming about me, I turned to Lessa. "How did you know where to find me?"

"Just after you vanished from Benden," she explained, coming up behind Master Robinton, "I remembered an encounter with a mysterious queen rider Turns before here at Cove Hold. It wasn't until I recalled her face that I realized it was you."

"Weyrwoman, we can't stay!" I groaned, fighting through the pounding in my head. "If we're discovered …"

"Too late," Lessa responded, smiling as she squeezed Master Robinton's shoulder. "But remember, Dana. I exist in this time, as well, and I don't recall anything unusual outside of your unexpected visit. You needn't worry about Master Robinton, either. If there was one person on all of Pern who could keep a secret, he had no equal."

"But what happened to your younger self?" I wondered, a bit confused.

"Called back to the Weyr to fly the queen's wing during a Fall," Lessa replied, brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes. "I left you here in Master Robinton's care. By the time I returned much later, you were gone, so I wouldn't worry."

"At least give yourself an hour or two to rest, my dear Dana," Robinton commented, a warm smile on his gentle face. "It would ease my worry greatly."

Rest, dragon healer, Ramoth rumbled, peering in from one of the windows. Tarnaa and I will keep watch.

"There, you see? The perfect bodyguards!" Robinton laughed.

"I had almost forgotten that you could hear dragons, Masterharper," Lessa said, a warm smile on her face as she gave him a hug.

"Weyrwoman, why is it I always seem to end up in a bed somewhere depending on someone's good graces?" I moaned, relaxing just a bit.

"From what Lessa has told me, Dana," Robinton remarked, giving me a wink, "I'd say there has been cause each time."

"She what?!" I gasped, my body starting to tremble as I stared at her. "What have you done?"

"Told me all about you, my dear," Robinton quietly informed me. "A truly remarkable tale. Your journey here from Earth, your being able to communicate with any dragon, how you saved Darla and Laneth, your wondrous transformation into such a lovely young lady. But calling Wirenth from between?! Truly astounding! And Canth flying Wirenth! I had not thought such a thing possible!"

"You weren't the only one, Master Robinton," Lessa chuckled, handing him a glass of Benden wine.

"Ah, thank you, my dear," he sighed, gently taking the glass from her. "All this talking has me quite parched."

"Fortunately, Master Dragonhealer Dana had courage enough to fight for what she knew was right," Lessa commented, raising her glass in a salute to me. "The rest of us just couldn't accept going against tradition."

"Thirty nine eggs in her clutch," Robinton said, smiling at me. "Two queens and a surprising number of bronze hatchlings. Don't recall ever hearing of a queen clutching so many! Any chance these queens will breathe fire, too?"

The mere mention of that possibility made me cringe. So far, fear had been the result. What would happen if those queens possessed the same ability?

"No way of knowing until it happens," Lessa shrugged. Then, looking directly at me, she asked, "Dana, why did you and Tarnaa flee like that?"

"The fear," I managed to say around a sob, tears trickling down into my ears. "The fear I saw in everyone's eyes when they realized what Tarnaa and Sylene could do. And it wasn't just at the Weyr. When Gerrald told us to leave, I …" Gasping, fear of a different kind stabbing through my heart, I jerked upright in bed. "Ryeena!"

"Easy, my dear," Robinton said, gently pressing me back down onto the rushes. "Lessa tells me she's just fine."

"She's okay, Dana," Benden's Weyrwoman assured me. "And you're right. We were afraid … at first. I mean, who had ever heard of a fire-breathing queen? But after the initial shock wore off, we realized this could actually be a good thing for both of you! As healers, it would be better for you not to be encumbered by the flame-throwers that queen riders typically use. And if you had to land to help an injured dragon or rider during a Fall, as you did at Misty Hold, your queens could provide protection from Thread with their own fiery breath! Thank the Egg you and Ryeena had the presence of mind to train your lifemates. That forethought and preparation ended up saving your lives."

"It would seem, Dana," Robinton said, smiling his warmest at me, "that you and your dragons were destined to be together, a perfect synergy of remarkable talents!" Keen interest sparkling in his eyes, he leaned forward and asked, "Could Tarnaa show me?"

Zair, perched on his shoulder, twittered excitedly. Lessa was nodding encouragingly as I looked over at her.

"She might need some more firestone," I haltingly said.

"Just happen to have some around the back of the Hold," Robinton replied. "Tarnaa, do you think you could bring a few around to the window here?"

Lifemate?

"It's alright, my heart," I said, patting her muzzle. "Go ahead."

She withdrew from the window and disappeared from sight. Moments later, she returned, six small rocks in her forepaws.

"Master Robinton, would you do the honors?" I asked.

"Delighted, my dear!" he replied, taking the stones from Tarnaa's outstretched paws.

With noisy dispatch, my lifemate ground up and swallowed each of the rocks as Master Robinton fed them to her. Moments later, she belched a sizeable gout of flame skyward for the Masterharper to see.

"Remarkable!" he sighed, patting Tarnaa's neck.

I am pleased you liked it, Masterharper, she replied, her eyes a slowly whirling blue-green.

"And now, I have a favor to ask of you," Robinton said, turning to me.

"Me?" I wondered, glancing over at Lessa. With a gasp then a smile, I knew what it had to be. "'Keymon's Song.'"

"Would you sing it for me?" he asked, an earnest plea in his eyes as he pulled a beautifully crafted gitar off a nearby shelf. "I can barely contain my curiosity after the way Lessa couldn't stop raving about it!"

Tears filled my eyes as Master Robinton took my hands in his.

"Dana, I know that you are worried about altering your future," he said, squeezing my hands reassuringly. "But I also realize that I haven't much longer to live. Would you honor me by singing this song you brought to us from 'The People's Heart,' the home of your feline friend?"

"No matter where on Pern I have traveled in our time," I said to Master Robinton, squeezing his hands as tears slid down my face, "the memory of you is carefully preserved in the hearts and minds of everyone I met. You are more loved and missed than you know, Master Robinton. I had so wanted to meet you, but I never dreamt I would ever have the chance. I would be pleased … and honored … to sing for you!"

And sing I did; Zair, Ramoth and Tarnaa joining me. I poured my entire being into it until I thought my heart would burst. There was no Pern, no Cove Hold, no me, only the song of Pun Ch'lar sung for the Masterharper of Pern, for Master Robinton alone.

Masterharper Robinton proved true to his craft. As I sang, he picked up the melody very quickly, deftly playing his gitar to accompany me. He struck a single sour note as Zair joined his delicate voice to mine. He gasped in astonishment as Tarnaa and Ramoth quickly joined in, triggering the dream-like state the song inspires. When the music at last trailed off into silence, the only sound to be heard was the quiet susurrus of the waves lapping the beach out in the cove.

"Dana, precious child," Robinton finally whispered, hugging me tightly, "what a wondrous gift you have given me. Never have I heard such beauty in all my life!"

"I wanted it to be perfect for you, Master Robinton," I wept, returning the hug.

"Better than perfect, my dear," he told me, wiping a tear from my cheek. "Thank you."

His praise made me so happy, I thought my heart would burst!

"Rest now," he told me, easing me back down to the rushes. "Sleep if you can. You will need your strength for the journey home."

And then, quietly playing his gitar as accompaniment, Master Robinton began to sing a quiet, peaceful song. Hearing it made me relax, my mind drifting along with the music. Before I knew it, I was sound asleep, lulled by the subtle workings of the Masterharper of Pern.

It was the most restful slumber I had ever had; so peaceful, so profound. I awoke to the quiet chirping of nighttime insects, the soothing shush of waves in the cove, stars glittering in the skies above.

Stars?! I jerked upright in bed. How long had I been asleep? Shells, the younger Lessa could be returning at any moment! Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I paused a moment to listen. The hold was quiet, peaceful. Gingerly, I felt my forehead where Ramoth and I had collided. There was a small lump that was slightly tender to the touch but nothing worse. A concussion might have contributed to my sleep. I felt alright but was a little uncertain about the long jump between that Tarnaa and I would have to make to get back to our proper time.

We will make it, she silently informed me, one eye peering in from the window.

We have to leave, my heart, I soundlessly told her, rising to my feet. We can't stay any longer.

Do we have to go? Tarnaa wondered, her eyes shading to an uncertain orange. I like Master Robinton.

"I am pleased to hear that, my dear," a voice quietly spoke from the door.

"Master Robinton!" I gasped, his face revealed by a beam of moonlight shining in through another window as he stepped into the room.

"Leaving so soon, Masterhealer?" he inquired, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I must, Master Robinton," I replied, taking his hands in mine. "The longer I stay, the greater the risk to the future."

"I understand, my dear," he said, nodding agreement. "Come then. You'd best be going before the younger Lessa returns."

Guiding me through the hold, Master Robinton led me out to where Tarnaa was waiting, her fighting straps already hooked on.

"Dana," he quietly spoke, laying a hand on my shoulder, "I'd like you to have this."

He was holding out a wherhide instrument carry case. The insides were usually heavily lined with fur to protect and cushion the instrument within against the harshness of travel between. Opening the case revealed the beautiful gitar he had been playing.

"Oh, Master Robinton, no!" I protested, closing the case and offering it back to him. "I couldn't possibly!"

"Please," he said, gently pushing it back to me. "To remind you of what we so briefly shared."

Tears fell like rain from my eyes as I clutched it tightly to my chest.

"I will treasure it always, dear Master Robinton," I wept, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Smiling, a tear in his own eye, he gave me a boost up Tarnaa's side.

"Take good care of your lifemate, Tarnaa," Robinton said, patting my queen's side.

Never fear, Masterharper, she assured him, her eyes amethyst jewels as she nuzzled his face.

"Dana, …"

"Dear Master Robinton, I can see the questions on your face and in your eyes," I said, a sad smile on my lips. "While I cannot give you specifics, I can tell you a little."

"More than I expected," he remarked, Zair trilling excitedly from his shoulder.

"There are fascinating as well as dangerous times ahead for you, Master Robinton," I quietly told him. "Many new discoveries about Pern's history. I can tell you that you will live long enough to see the Dragonriders complete their efforts to end the menace of Thread forever."

"An end to Threadfall?!" he gasped.

I nodded.

"But, sadly," and my voice broke as I spoke the words, "you will not live to see the end of this Pass."

Nodding reluctant acceptance, Robinton finally sighed, "Thank you, my dear. I am grateful for the knowledge … and your honesty. I give you my word I will tell no one of this. Now you'd best be going."

A sob tearing at my throat, Tarnaa leaped skyward, bearing us aloft. With a final backward glance at the Masterharper of Pern, his precious gitar clutched tightly to my breast, I concentrated on the proper image of Benden Weyr, and Tarnaa took us between.


	28. Chapter 28 - The Harper's Will

Chapter 28

 _The Harper's Will_

As Tarnaa and I emerged from _between_ high above the volcanic crater that was Benden Weyr, the scene below was one of utter chaos. Frantic, desperate dragon cries filled the air, echoing up from the bowl. Just as quickly, they transformed to exultant trills as the gathered dragons realized …

 _They have returned!_

 _At last!_

 _Wonderful!_

 _What a relief!_

 _Where did they go?_

 _Why did they flee from us?_

 _They are back! That's all that matters!_

 _ **MAKE UP YOUR MINDS!**_ Tarnaa roared, thoroughly incensed, her piercing cry silencing the others as it echoed off the crater walls. _First you fear us, then you love us! Tch!_

 _The fear is gone, my heart,_ I told her, patting her neck. _That's all that matters._

Overcoming their surprise at Tarnaa's outburst, the gathered dragons swooped and dove about us, escorting us down to the floor of the Weyr bowl, caroling their elation at our return. I scarcely even noticed, the recent events still fresh in my mind.

"SHARDS AND SHELLS, WHERE HAVE YOU TWO BEEN?!" F'lar roared, seizing me by the shoulders as I slid down Tarnaa's side.

"With a friend," I replied in a barely audible whisper, clutching the precious gitar to me.

"Where?" F'lar growled, shaking me as he spoke. "The dragons couldn't find you anywhere on the planet!"

In the next instant, Goldie appeared, shrieking at the top of her tiny lungs. She dove at F'lar repeatedly, talons flashing, driving him away from me. When he had retreated far enough, she backwinged to my shoulder, wings spread, talons bared, as she glared at the Benden Weyrleader.

"Where?" F'lar demanded once more, taking a step forward, hesitating only when Goldie hissed a warning.

"Does it matter, F'lar?" Lessa spoke, coming up beside him. "She's back where she belongs. The rest is unimportant."

"Unimportant?!" he exclaimed, turning his anger on his weyrmate. "When not a single dragon or fire lizard could find her?" Spinning to face me, he exclaimed, "When! You timed it, didn't you?"

"Purely by accident, Weyrleader," I replied without apology. "While I was aware from Lessa's story that timing was possible, no one had ever shown me how it was done."

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it can be?!" F'lar roared, his face livid.

"Oh, she knows, alright," Lessa remarked, grinning as she lightly touched the bump on my forehead. "Believe me, she knows."

"Wait a minute," F'lar growled, turning to his weyrmate. "You disappeared shortly after she did, and Mnementh couldn't find either of you. You know where and when they went, don't you?"

"She was with a friend," Lessa replied, smiling as she looked at me. "An old and very dear friend. Her visit did no harm and may even have done some good, so you needn't be concerned."

F'lar stared at us, his face crimson from his barely contained rage.

"What you should really be worried about, Weyrleader," Lessa growled, facing her mate as she emphasized his title, "is why they fled at all!"

"Why?!" F'lar spluttered, a confused expression on his face. "What does that have to do with this?"

"Everything!" Lessa exploded, stepping toward him. "Dana fled with Tarnaa because we had crushed her heart!"

"What are you ranting about?" F'lar demanded, planting his fists on his hips.

Stepping up beside Lessa, I said, "Look me in the eye, Weyrleader, and tell me you weren't afraid when Tarnaa and Sylene spouted flame at the circling dragons."

Benden's Weyrleader remained silent.

"You were all afraid… afraid of me and Ryeena and our dragons. You have no idea how much that hurt, Weyrleader. I couldn't bear to see it, so we fled to a quiet, peaceful place. The timing was purely accidental."

"So who did you visit?" F'lar grumbled, his fury only slightly diminished.

"If you recognize this," I responded, opening the carry case to reveal the precious gitar within, "then you'll know who, when, and where."

F'lar started to reach for it, but Goldie hissed a warning.

"Goldie, ssshh," I told her, gently stroking her neck ridge.

Before F'lar could examine it, however, …

"Dana! Dana!" Ryeena exclaimed as she came running up, throwing her arms about my neck and hugging me fiercely. "Thank the Egg you're back! We've been so worried about you!"

"Sis?" Brekke added, coming up beside my young friend. "Thank the stars you two are both alright. We didn't know what had happened to you."

And then, Brekke gasped, hands covering her mouth as she stared at the open carry case.

One hand tentatively brushing its fur lining, tears streaming down her cheeks, she whispered, "Where did you get this?"

"Whose is it?" F'lar wondered.

"Master Robinton's," Brekke informed him, blinking back the tears. "It disappeared from Cove Hold not long after the discovery of Landing. Where did you find it?"

"I didn't," I quietly replied, taking her hand in mine. "He gave it to me."

"He gave it …" Brekke stammered, staring wide-eyed at me. "But how could he … By the Egg of Faranth!"

"YOU _TIMED_ _IT_ BACK TO COVE HOLD WHILE ROBINTON WAS STILL ALIVE?!" F'lar exploded, pushing through my sisters, stopping just out of reach of Goldie's raking talons.

"Timed it?" Ryeena wondered aloud, staring at the rest of us.

"Dragons can not only teleport across space, Ryeena," I explained, closing the carry case, "they can also teleport across time."

"They what?!" she blurted out, her eyes threatening to pop from their sockets.

"It's no wonder that knowledge is kept secret," I muttered, shaking my head. "All across this galaxy is evidence of civilizations that had discovered time travel, misused it, and ended up destroying themselves. I know. I helped a few of the archeological teams explore the ruins of some of them."

"Seems Dana is far more aware of the dangers than any of us," Lessa commented, nodding as she put a welcome arm around my shoulders. "That would explain why you dove out that window when I showed up at Cove Hold the first time."

"But why would Master Robinton give you his gitar?" Brekke wondered.

"I'll bet I know," Ryeena replied, a broad grin on her face. "'Keymon's Song'. You sang it for him, didn't you?"

"To my everlasting joy," I wept, tears streaming down my face.

"Wish I had gone with you," Ryeena sighed enviously.

"Bad enough I went," I muttered, shaking my head.

Just then, …

"Dana!" L'trel pushed his way through the crowd, sweeping me up in his embrace. "Thank the Egg you're alright!"

He kissed me repeatedly – cheek, neck, forehead, lips. I melted into his embrace, my head resting against his chest. I could hear his heart beating frantically, feel his body trembling. He'd obviously been scared out of his wits by our disappearance.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, totally contrite. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"I'm glad you're back," he said, lifting my chin with his fingers. "But we'll talk later. Right now, you're needed at Landing."

"Landing?" I wondered. "What for?"

"AIVAS," he replied, looking directly into my eyes. "He's asking for you."

"Me?" I stammered, pulling back a bit. "Why?"

"Don't know," L'trel admitted, a wry grin on his face as he shrugged. "But he's shut down all access until you get there!"

"HE WHAT?!" I spluttered, stunned by the news. "ALL?!"

That would send every individual using the terminals at Landing – holder, crafter, and weyrfolk alike – into a rage! Whatever could've possessed AIVAS to do such a thing?

"He's also insisting that Sebell, Menolly, F'lar, and Lessa be present as well," he added.

"Us?" Lessa responded, clearly surprised.

"What for?" F'lar wanted to know.

"I asked that very thing," L'trel told them. "But AIVAS refuses to answer any questions until you five are present."

"We'll pick up the Masterharpers," Lessa said, heading off to find Ramoth, "and meet you there."

Storing Masterharper Robinton's precious gitar in my weyr, Tarnaa and I took wing, jumping _between_ to Landing after barely gaining wing room.

The moment we arrived, I was besieged by those who had been using AIVAS, demanding to know why access had been cut off. Goldie popped out of _between_ , hissing loudly as she backwinged to my shoulder.

"Now see here, dragonrider," one holder complained as he stepped forward.

Goldie's hiss and bared talons slowed the man's approach. Tarnaa's warning rumble, her eyes burning red, made him and everyone else back away.

"Enough!" D'ram shouted, silencing everyone, Lytol beside him at the doorway to the AIVAS building. "We won't get any answers with all this bickering and caterwauling! Give the Masterhealer a chance to find out what AIVAS wants!"

Nodding my thanks, I stepped past the two men and entered the facility.

 _Fellth and I will see that you are not disturbed,_ Tarnaa rumbled, the light in the hallway dimming somewhat as she and L'trel's bronze positioned themselves in front of the main door.

"Crackdust, am I glad to see you!" Piemur exclaimed, emerging from one of the annexes. "I thought those fools were going to tear AIVAS apart when he shut down access."

"Any idea what's going on?" I asked.

"Not a clue," Piemur shrugged. "AIVAS refuses to answer any questions until you, the Benden Weyrleaders, and the Masterharpers are present."

"Curious," I murmured as we continued down the hall. "Could someone have been tampering with AIVAS' programming?"

"Last person who tried died before he hit the floor," Piemur chuckled. "But everything was fine this time, and then …"

"Hmm," I mused, passing into the main AIVAS room, Piemur right behind.

"Greetings, Masterhealer Dana," AIVAS spoke the moment I entered.

I pulled up in surprise so abruptly that Piemur and L'trel plowed into me from behind.

"What?" Fellth's rider asked, glancing back and forth between me and AIVAS.

"How is it you know who I am, AIVAS?" I inquired, stepping closer. "It's been quite some time since I was last at Landing."

"Many factors, Masterhealer," it responded. "Bits of data reported to this unit, hearing D'ram address you as Masterhealer, that you are obviously a queen rider based on external visual sensors. A simple extrapolation of available facts."

"Critter's too darn smart for its own good," Piemur muttered under his breath.

"Jealous?" I teased him.

Piemur merely snorted, waving the notion aside.

"Harper journeyman Piemur and bronze rider L'trel tell me you've shut down all access, AIVAS," I addressed the device. "Explain the necessity. Is there some kind of systems failure?"

"No failure involved, Masterhealer," it responded.

"Then define reason for disabling all access," I demanded. "Was someone tampering with your programming?"

"No tampering involved, Masterhealer," it informed me.

"I have asked you repeatedly to explain the reason for disabling all access, AIVAS," I said, pulling up a seat at the input console. "Do I have to execute command override functions to get a clear answer?"

"That will not be necessary, Masterhealer," it came back.

"Then explain!" I ordered, my fingers poised over the keyboard.

"To bring you here," it told me.

"Why?" I inquired. "And why were the Masterharpers and the Benden Weyrleaders requested as well? Explain!"

There was a very long and profound pause before AIVAS quietly replied, "To bear witness to the last will and testament of Masterharper Robinton."

Silence, total and profound, fell across the room.

"By the First Egg!" Piemur finally whispered.

"Stars above!" L'trel gasped.

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I hissed.

It was fortunate indeed that I was sitting down. AIVAS' revelation was so unsettling, my knees had started shaking so violently I probably would've fallen! Swallowing a lump in my throat the size of Belior, I turned to the others in the room.

All of these people had known and loved Master Robinton. Now this! Ancestors, how this must be painful for them. His presence had filled their hearts, guided their lives. While it was obvious no one had known about his will, given what had been going on at Landing during that frenetic period in Pern's recent history, it was easy to understand how he could've done it without being observed. At that time, everyone had been far too busy with other concerns and pursuits.

Rascal that he was, Piemur was the first to find his voice. "I don't get it. Why wait until now to reveal it? Why not back then?"

"A good question," I mused. "When did AIVAS first shutdown access?"

"About 20 minutes ago," he answered, glancing at his watch.

Moments after Tarnaa and I had disappeared from Benden Weyr … on our journey back through time to Cove Hold … and …

 _Oh, Master, what have you done?_ I silently wondered.

"Jaxom and Sharra should be here," I declared. "It's only fitting because of what happened to the Masterharper at that fateful Gather. It will also give us representatives from Hold, Hall, and Weyr should that be necessary."

"An excellent suggestion," Lytol remarked as he and D'ram entered.

"You heard?" Piemur asked.

Both men nodded, their expressions grim. Both had been very close to the Masterharper. This had to be excruciating for them.

"I'll ask Ruth to bring them," I quietly informed the others.

Silently contacting Jaxom's dragon, I explained what was happening at Landing. He passed word back to me that the three of them would come at once.

 _My thanks, Ruth, to you and your rider._

Even as I turned to the three other occupants of the room, a familiar sensation rippled across my senses. Tarnaa bugled a greeting to her sire and dam while I reported, "Mnementh and Ramoth have just arrived."

"And are landing just outside," AIVAS reported.

An exterior view of the facility showed the two great beasts backwinging to a landing just in front of Tarnaa. F'lar dismounted, helping Sebell to the ground. Lessa and Menolly slid down Ramoth's side, reaching the ground at the same instant.

"Exterior two-way audio, AIVAS, if you please," I addressed the machine.

"Proceed," it acknowledged.

The four new arrivals stopped in their tracks when my voice reached them through the external systems.

"The main AIVAS room, ladies and gentlemen, if you please," I said, grinning at the looks of surprise on their faces before they made their way inside.

A second ripple across my senses, and we could see Ruth pop out of _between_ just above the other dragons, landing neatly in a small space between F'lar's bronze and Lessa's queen. Quickly dismounting, Jaxom and Sharra hurried to catch up with the others.

"Ruth said it was urgent," Sharra said as the six new arrivals entered. "What's up?"

"I better leave that for AIVAS to explain," I replied, turning back to the machine.

"Thank you, Masterhealer," it spoke. "Welcome, Lord Jaxom, Lady Sharra, Weyrleader F'lar, Weyrwoman Lessa, Masterharpers Sebell and Menolly. Thank you all for coming so quickly. My task is simple, my reason somber. You have all been summoned here today so that you might all bear witness to the last will and testament of Masterharper Robinton!"

"Shards of my dragon's egg!" Jaxom whispered.

"Oh, Sebell!" Menolly sobbed, hugging her husband.

"Behold," AIVAS intoned.

Instead of the main screen lighting up, a life-size hologram of the Masterharper of Pern, a gentle smile on his lips, appeared in the air before us.

"My dearest friends," his rich baritone voice addressed us. "I wish this gathering was for more pleasant reasons, but I have called you all here so that you might hear my final wishes."

His gaze seemed to roam about the room, coming to rest briefly on each of us.

"Sebell and Menolly," Master Robinton's recording said. "I wanted you both to know that I could not be prouder of you two than if you had been my own children."

Sniffles and tears were Menolly's reply. Though he tried to hide it, a solitary tear slid down Sebell's cheek.

"F'lar and Lessa," Master Robinton continued. "Though we did not always see eye-to-eye on some matters, I still count myself fortunate to have known you and favored to count you among my friends."

"A cooler head when one was needed," Lessa sighed. "Things might have turned out far differently if not for him."

"Lord Jaxom, Lady Sharra," Robinton greeted them. "Who could have guessed how critical your impulsive decision to free Ruth from his egg would turn out to be, young lord."

"He misses you still, Master Robinton," Jaxom whispered, his throat choked with emotion. "As do we all."

And then, Robinton's gaze fixed on me … as if he could somehow see me across all those Turns, setting my heart fluttering beneath my ribs.

"And, finally, you, my delightfully demure Dana," he said, a tear glistening in his eye. "Queen rider. Masterhealer. So brief our meeting, yet so profound." With a wink and a grimace, he added, "You could've warned me about the wagon."

His gaze lifted, taking in the others.

"By the Egg of Faranth, how could he possibly know about Dana?" Menolly gasped.

"You all, no doubt, have many questions," Robinton said. "To that end, I have instructed AIVAS to pause this recording until you are all ready to proceed."

When the image of Master Robinton froze in place, I slowly turned to face the others. Surprise, uncertainty, and amazement were the expressions that greeted me from everyone except F'lar and Lessa.

"How could he possibly have known about you?" Sebell finally stammered, moving a step closer. "Master Robinton was gone _between_ Turns before you even arrived on Pern!"

Sharra knelt in front of me, taking my hands in hers. "Shells, Dana, you're trembling! What happened? How could Master Robinton know about you?"

Drawing a deep breath, I told her, "To understand that, I need to explain a few things first."

And so, I told them about the escarpment and what happened when I caught Tarnaa chewing firestone. No one believed me until I asked her to give them a little demonstration. Then, I explained about Ryeena and what had transpired when I brought her to the escarpment. F'lar and Lessa were nodding as I filled the others in on the happenings at Benden. Tears ran down my cheeks as I recounted the jump _between_ back through time to Cove Hold … and my inadvertent meeting with Master Robinton. Eyes on the floor, I quietly finished the telling with our return to Benden Weyr.

"No wonder the dragons were frantic," D'ram remarked, laying an understanding hand on my shoulder.

"That's how I came to have Master Robinton's missing gitar," I sighed, smiling up at the elder dragonman.

"And to think, all that time, he never told a soul!" Menolly chuckled.

Lessa's gaze met mine. We both smiled.

"We're ready, AIVAS," I instructed the machine.

"Here then, my dear friends," Master Robinton continued, "are my final wishes. I, Robinton, one-time Masterharper of Pern, being of sound mind and body, …"

To the people of Benden Weyr, he bequeathed his entire collection of fine, aged Benden wine. To the new Masterharper and his wife, he left his entire assortment of musical scores and lovingly crafted instruments. To the Lord and Lady Holder of Ruatha, he left a very sizeable cache of jewels and marks that he had been quietly secreting away – a belated wedding present as he called it.

"And, finally, to you, Dana, my dear," he said, his warm smile reaching across the intervening Turns, "who gave me such a wondrous gift in the guise of song. A healer of your talents needs somewhere to work; a tranquil place where the injured may come to rest and benefit from your remarkable skills."

"Oh, Master, no!" I gasped, leaping to my feet as I realized what he intended.

"Dana, what is it?" Lessa asked, instantly at my side.

"Starvoyager Dana, masterhealer and gold Tarnaa's rider," Master Robinton intoned, genuine love shining from his eyes, "to you I bequeath all the lands and facilities that are known as Cove Hold!"


	29. Chapter 29 - The Teaching Hospital

Chapter 29

 _The Teaching Hospital_

I never heard the end of the will. The moment Master Robinton confirmed my worst fears, I fainted dead away.

My next conscious awareness was the feel of a cot beneath me. But where? Looking around, I realized I was inside one of the Quonset huts at Landing, one of the original colonist's homes that had been unearthed. Tarnaa was watchfully beside me; Goldie curled up on the pillow. I broke almost at once into sobs, overcome by it all.

Cove Hold was mine!

 _It will be a good place, lifemate,_ Tarnaa hummed as she nuzzled my tear-streaked face. _A place of healing. It helped Master Robinton. It will help others._

Goldie trilled agreement, humming reassurances as she head-stroked my cheek.

"Oh, Tarnaa," I sobbed, hugging her neck, "it was home to Master Robinton! How could I possibly accept such a gift?"

"By just saying 'Yes'," Lessa replied as she stepped through the door.

"Oh, Lessa, I couldn't possibly!" I whimpered. "There are too many memories in that place, too many people who revered the Masterharper. That place is like a shrine to him. Besides, how do we explain to the people of Pern how I was named to inherit it? If the dragon's ability to time it becomes public knowledge, …"

"It already is, Dana," Lessa chuckled as she sat down on the bed. "After all, when I brought the five missing weyrs forward through time to fight Thread, it wasn't long before word got out about how it was done."

"Oh."

"Everyone understands that it takes a dragon to make the jump, but only a few of us know the particulars of how. It places unusual strains on both dragon and rider, so it is something that we strongly condemn except in the most extraordinary circumstances. Like you, we understand all too well the dangers involved and do everything we can to prevent it. So, try not to worry."

"I can't help it, Lessa," I argued, shaking my head. "Too many people loved the Masterharper. They built that home for him, not me. I can't do it, Lessa. I just can't!"

"He did it for you, Dana," Lessa said, giving my knee a pat. "Given how keen his perceptions were, it doesn't surprise me that Robinton sensed the stress that you and Tarnaa have been under flitting all over Pern trying to heal so many."

"There's no one else who can, Lessa," I muttered. "Not even Master Oldive can match my surgical skill. And it's not like the effort hasn't been worth it. Look how many lives have been saved that might otherwise have died."

"You don't need to convince me," Lessa chuckled, giving my arm a squeeze. "I was there for Wirenth, remember?"

"I'm sorry," I apologized, feeling contrite. "It's just so frustrating when I realize that so much simple life-saving medical knowledge has been lost here on Pern."

"I couldn't agree more," Oldive interjected as he entered the room. Coming over to stand beside me, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Overwhelmed," I groaned, collapsing back against the pillow. "With all that's happened, my emotions are more tattered than a dragon's Threadscored wing!"

"Quite understandable," Oldive agreed, taking a seat nearby, "given all that I've heard. Now, I hadn't meant to eavesdrop just now, but I think Lessa is right about Master Robinton and what he did. Which is why I wanted to speak with you. I have an interesting proposition, Dana, something that many of the weyrlings from Wirenth's clutch have approached me about."

"What?" I wondered.

"I'm glad you're here, too, Weyrwoman, because I'll need your help, as well."

"With what?" Lessa wondered.

"The weyrlings I told you about," Oldive explained. "They want to build a teaching hospital!"

"A what?" Lessa asked.

"A place of healing, Weyrwoman," I responded, "but with one major difference. The healers are being taught their skills at the same time that the sick and injured are being tended to."

"I thought that's what the Healer Hall did," Lessa observed.

"Yes," Oldive admitted, "but that's where the similarity ends. The weyrlings who came to me want this place to be staffed by – are you ready for this? – dragon-riding healers!"

"WHAT?!" Lessa and I both exclaimed.

"You and Ryeena were the impetus, Dana," Oldive went on. "They've heard all the stories and can't help but marvel at all the work the two of you have done. They want to join you, to help you, and … they want you to teach them!"

"Me?!"

"And why not? As you just said, who on Pern knows more about those lost healing arts than you?"

"And who better to teach them than the one who has been plying that knowledge all over Pern on a daily basis?" Lessa added.

Benden's Weyrwoman gasped but then smiled at the Masterhealer of Pern. "Oldive, you are nearly as devious as Robinton."

"My dear Weyrwoman, you wound me!"

"You want to build this teaching hospital of yours at Cove Hold, don't you?"

A smile slowly growing, Oldive nodded.

"It makes sense, you know," Lessa remarked. "F'nor would be the first to agree. It's an ideal spot, and the cove is an unmistakable visual reference for any dragonrider. Ah, now I understand why you stopped by."

"Well, I don't," I complained.

"It's quite simple, my dear," Oldive assured me. "You see, by virtue of Master Robinton's will, you are now Lord Holder of Cove Hold. And as the new resident Lord, we need your permission to construct the teaching hospital on your lands!"

"Oh. Oh! Oh, I see!"

I did, too, my respect for Master Robinton going up several notches in the process.

"There's more," Oldive said. "I've spoken with the other Craftmasters about this. In order to facilitate this teaching hospital, a new healing craft has been created, the craft of Surgery. And you, my dear Dana, by virtue of your inestimable skills, are to be its first Craftmaster!"

"What?!" I gasped, jerking upright in bed. "Craftmaster?!"

"It didn't take much convincing on my part," he chuckled. "Your reputation precedes you!"

"But, Lessa," I argued, "you were the one who first told me that the best dragon healer is one who remains dragonless. Why have you changed your mind?"

Giving my hand a squeeze, she told me, "Because of all the good work you and Ryeena have done."

"While I am proud of our healers and all that they do," Oldive added, leaning forward, "they can't respond to a healing crisis with the speed and precision that you and Ryeena can on your dragons. Most of those people you've helped would've died if they'd had to wait for more conventional treatment."

"But Hold, Hall, and Weyr are supposed to be autonomous units," I said, brows furrowed with concern. "What you're suggesting is a synergy of all three!"

"Out of necessity," Lord Jaxom interjected as he entered. "Mastersmith Fandarel would be the first to agree that it is a most … 'efficient' arrangement."

"Not you, too," I groaned, collapsing back against the pillow.

"Several of those you and Ryeena saved, Dana, are holders in Ruatha," Jaxom said, pulling up a stool. "I've talked to each of them. All are convinced, as am I, that, had it not been for you, they would have died. The time has come for you to pass on that knowledge to others so that all of Pern may benefit."

"Craftmaster," I whispered, shaking my head. "Never in my wildest …"

"You are much more than that, my friend," Jaxom said.

"I don't follow."

"You started out a veterinary surgeon, became a master healer, and then a dragonrider," Jaxom explained, ticking the points off on his fingers. "Now, you are also a lord holder as well as a craftmaster!" Chuckling, he added, "And I thought my situation was difficult!"

Struggling out of bed, Goldie circling above me, I headed for the door. "How soon do you all need my answer?"

"The Lords Holder annual conclave is slated for next month," Jaxom informed me. "There may be some difficulty getting you confirmed as Cove Hold's Lord Holder, but you certainly have my support. And that of Lord Groghe as well."

"We shouldn't wait that long," Lessa argued. "This Pass is still a long way from over, and I'm sure you'd agree that the need for more healers like you and Ryeena is immediate."

"I'd say the sooner we get started, the better," Oldive suggested.

I glanced out the door, sighing even as Goldie called out reassurances to me. "Let me have until this evening. I'll give you my answer then."

"Fair enough," Jaxom agreed as he and the others rose.

Stepping outside, I leaped to Tarnaa's patiently extended foreleg, seized the fighting straps, and swung myself into position on her neck ridge. Hooking on the straps, I checked the air above me and then signaled Tarnaa skyward.

A veterinary surgeon, a masterhealer, a dragonrider, a lord holder, and a craftmaster … all rolled into one? My impressing a queen had been trouble enough. My transformation even more so. Then Tarnaa and Sylene being able to breathe fire. Now this. My life was certainly getting a lot more complicated.

Rather than jumping _between_ , Tarnaa and I flew directly to Cove Hold. It was a long flight, and I was hoping to use the time enroute to ponder my dilemma. However, by the time we backwinged to a soft landing on the beach of Cove Hold, I was no closer to a solution than when I had winged out of Landing.

Tarnaa wanted to go play in the surf, so I sent her and Goldie off. That left me free to wander about the hold, hopefully to find something that would give me inspiration.

The pier that was Cove Hold's landing was my first stop. A pod of dolphins swam by, cavorting in the waves as they called out greetings to the new Lord Holder. How could they possibly know?

"Good news travels quickly, Masterhealer," one of the dolphins replied as she swam up to the pier.

This was a big dolphin, and very well spoken. "Do you have a name?"

"Theresa."

I nearly fell over the railing. "The dolphins' Tillek?!"

"Yes."

"I am honored. Did you know Master Robinton?"

"A little," Theresa replied, nodding. "Through stories other humans shared with us."

"What have you heard recently?"

"That you are now Lord Holder here."

"News certainly does travel fast!"

"When it is good, yes. Have also heard about new place."

"What new place?"

"A teaching hospital … to be made … created … built here."

"How do you know about that?"

"Many dragonriders talk to their dolphineers. Dolphineers talk to their pods. Pods talk to me. It is a good idea."

"They need my permission before they can build it."

"Then give permission," Theresa insisted.

"It's not that easy," I sighed, glancing at the pod playing nearby. "The humans loved Master Robinton, Theresa. They built this place for him. It was his home. I'm not sure I have the right to do this."

"He gave it to you," Theresa insisted, spraying a little water my way. "Now it is your home. The hospital is a good idea. It will help everyone on Pern."

"Help Loki?" a smaller dolphin asked as she popped up next to Theresa.

Kneeling at the edge of the pier to get a closer look, I inquired, "Are you injured?"

Loki rolled over on her side, showing me her abdomen. "Skrab bluffiss?"

Something was clinging near her genitalia. Information I'd learned at the Healer Hall suddenly flashed through my memory.

"A bloodfish!" I exclaimed, recognizing the parasite.

"Bluffiss! Bluffiss!" Loki repeated. "Skrab bluffiss for Loki?"

Her diction wasn't as good as Theresa's, but it wasn't hard to figure out that bluffiss meant bloodfish. Skrab? Ah, of course. Skrab bluffiss. Scrape bloodfish!

"Of course, I will," I assured her, taking a scalpel from my belt pack.

 _Tarnaa, by the pier, please,_ I sent as I dove into the water.

My golden lifemate arrived seconds later, settling gently into the water nearby.

"Loki, this is Tarnaa, my queen," I explained as my lifemate paddled over. "She's going to lift you a little while I remove the bloodfish. Alright?"

"Okie dokie," Loki responded. "Good friend!"

Gently, Tarnaa placed her front paws beneath Loki and lifted, being careful to avoid scraping our dolphin friend with her talons. Loki never even flinched.

Once the bloodfish was exposed, I located a certain spot on its back and inserted the tip of the scalpel. The bloodfish's sucker released almost immediately. After that, it was a simple matter to remove and dispose of the parasite.

"There you go, Loki," I told her as Tarnaa carefully lowered her back into the water. "A couple of days and no one will know the difference."

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Loki squeaked as she swam circles around us.

"Nicely done, Masterhealer," Theresa congratulated me as I heaved myself back up onto the pier.

 _I wasn't worried_ , Tarnaa remarked.

"Fortunately, I've had good teachers, Theresa," I chuckled as I gave my lifemate's eye ridge a scratch.

"If you built the hospital," the Tillek suggested, "you could pass that knowledge on to others. All of Pern would benefit!"

"Theresa, …"

"Dolphineers come here, too?" Loki wondered as she swam up.

"Et tu, Loki?" I sighed, shaking my head.

"You good dolphineer!" she insisted, rising up on her tail to show me the bloodfish' puncture site before settling back into the water. "Good home for pod, too. Can help you help sick humans!"

Seems all of Pern thought the teaching hospital was a good idea. Even me. But did that give me the right to desecrate Master Robinton's home?

Sighing, I told the Tillek and her companion, "I promised my friends that I'd give them my answer this evening."

"We shall return at sunset, then," Theresa said before she and Loki swam off.

 _The Tillek is very wise, lifemate_ , Tarnaa remarked as we watched the pod depart.

So was the Masterharper, I realized.

Leaving Tarnaa to continue her surf play, I went to check the various outbuildings around the compound. It would also give me time to dry off since I hadn't brought a towel with me.

An occasional wild fire lizard would appear, checking up on the new arrivals. Goldie, though, kept any stranger from getting too close.

Inevitably, my wanderings brought me back to the main hold. I hesitated outside, reluctant to violate Master Robinton's home. It just didn't seem right somehow, almost profane.

Goldie was the one who finally decided matters, disappearing through the open door ahead of me. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I stepped across the threshold.

It was quiet within, peaceful. Someone had obviously been taking very good care of the place for it was spotless everywhere. Opening a cabinet against one wall, I found a lone bottle of wine inside – Benden wine, Master Robinton's favorite. As I lifted it out to examine it, I discovered a tiny note discreetly fastened to the bottom. To my surprise, it was addressed to me. Peeling the note off, I opened it, instantly recognizing Master Robinton's handwriting.

 _For when you feel like celebrating. Take care, my dear. Love, Robinton._

I nearly dropped the precious bottle as I burst into tears. Goldie tried to console me, backwinging to my shoulder so she could head caress my cheek, crooning soothingly as she did. Carefully, I put the bottle back, closing the cabinet doors to keep it safe.

Tears trickling down my cheeks, I wandered back to the bedroom. Pausing in the doorway, I stared at the bed that I only recently yet so long ago had briefly occupied. Slowly, I crossed the room, running my fingers along the bed's foot rail. Then, without another thought, I laid down on the sweet smelling rushes, falling into a deep sleep within moments.

I dreamt of him, of Master Robinton. His warm smile, his charming ways, his delightful singing. I dreamt I was his apprentice, studying under him back at the Harper Hall. How I wished it could have been so.

Another dream had him standing on the sands of Cove Hold watching as Ryeena and I and our dragons took off to help a sailor badly injured at sea, a pod of dolphins our surface escort. Somehow, I knew Loki was among them.

Yet another dream. This time, Master Robinton and I were attending a Gather … at Ruatha. We had just arrived in time to overhear Lord Jaxom introduce a male singer. The Masterharper and I stood at the back of the crowd, watching as the gentleman made his way up the steps of the platform. At the same time, a wave of dizziness swept over me, Master Robinton's arm providing grateful support. The music started, a tune all too familiar to me. 'Keymon's Song'. The singer turned our way, looking straight at us. It was me!

The shock of that vision jerked me bolt upright in bed, trembling like a leaf, sweat trickling down my spine. Ancestors, preserve me! The mysterious pair I'd seen that day at the Ruathan Gather! It had been Master Robinton and my transformed self! Stars above, what was going on? How was this possible? And, then, I recalled what Master Robinton had said.

Dragons can 'time it'!

Now the dizziness that day and its unexplained disappearance afterwards made sense. It was the space-time continuum's way of warning me that the same person from two different times cannot coexist together! Worse, it was now clear that my trip back to Cove Hold hadn't been my only excursion through Time! Somehow, Master Robinton and I had gone forward from his time to that future Gather, a time long after his death. We had gone, and yet, we hadn't … at least not yet. That moment was still somewhere off in my future, and for some reason, it scared the bejeezes out of me!

Just then, the light in the room dimmed. Tarnaa was at the window. _You have visitors._

Hastily straightening my hair and clothing, I left the bedroom and stepped out onto the Hold's front porch.

The sun was setting. I had expected my visitors to be waiting just outside, but instead, they had gathered out on the pier. Curious, I went to meet them.

I recognized the Benden Weyrleaders at once. Masterharper Sebell and his wife, Menolly, were with them. So was Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra from Ruatha. Mastersmith Fandarel and Master Oldive were also present, plus one other. Judging by his outfit and other accouterments, it could only be …

"Master Readis," I greeted the Dolphineer. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you're here, too."

"Loki told me about what you did for her," he explained as we shook hands. "Thought I'd show my thanks by presenting the new Lord Holder with a little gift."

"Gift?"

Stepping aside, he indicated the shiny new dolphin bell mounted at the end of the pier. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I gently caressed the shimmering brass bell.

"It's beautiful," I told him. "Thank you."

"Have you reached a decision, Dana?" Lessa asked, bringing us all back to the real reason for their visit.

"Yes," I told her, nodding, "but not everyone is here yet."

Even as the others exchanged confused glances, I reached for the bell rope and rang the 'Come In' sequence. The sound the bell made carried well and far. Almost at once, dolphin bodies could be seen leaping in and out of the water as they headed our way.

"Look at them all!" Menolly gasped.

A good sized pod, over forty by my count, with Theresa and Loki leading the way.

"Welcome, Theresa," I greeted the Tillek as she and several others bobbed up and down in the waters near the pier. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

"It is a fine dolphin bell, Masterhealer," she replied. "Hello, Readis. It is good to see you again!"

"It is always a pleasure to see you!" he replied, bowing to her.

"You have decided, then?" the Tillek asked.

I nodded.

Turning to the humans on the pier, I said, "I can think of any number of reasons why any one of you should have been the one to inherit this place. You all knew Master Robinton far longer and well than I ever will, each of you far more deserving in your own ways than I. All I did was sing a song for him. But whatever his reasons, we are all honor bound to abide by his final wishes."

Solemnly, all of my visitors nodded agreement.

"Since the days of the Ancients, hold, hall, and weyr have been autonomous," I continued. "What we propose to create here will be a synergy of all three, each an integral part of the whole. What we call this place must reflect that unity. But the name should also be unique, different from all others, separate from all others because what we will be doing here benefits all of Pern, not just a single hold, hall, or weyr. Henceforth, this hold, the hall we will build, and the weyr that will fly from here will be known simply as … Robinton Cove!"

Tears flowed in every eye, including mine.

"Master Oldive, Weyrleader F'lar, Weyrwoman Lessa," I said, addressing the three, "those riders who are chosen for this place must not only be finely trained healers, they must also be highly skilled riders. There must be no question as to their abilities for they must not only look out for their dragons but also deal with the concerns of those they will be called upon to heal."

"Agreed," F'lar responded, nodding to me.

"B'lar and Zidith are a good example," Lessa added. "Dragon and rider both injured, both needing medical help, both under Threadfall. Far more complicated and dangerous than flying Thread."

"This place must also be self-sufficient, no longer dependent on tithing from the people of Pern," I insisted, my arm sweeping wide. "Only in this way can we be impartial serving all of Pern, not bound by loyalty or need to one region or another."

"Very wise," Sebell remarked, Menolly nodding along with him.

"Lord Jaxom, Lady Sharra," I addressed them, "I hope I can count on both of you for guidance in hold management. I will also need your help selecting those who will be needed to make this place self-sufficient, providing not just for our own needs but also those who will be recuperating here."

"We would be honored," Sharra assured me, giving Jaxom's arm a hug.

"Mastersmith Fandarel, I call upon you to help us build a place unlike any this world has ever known," I said to him, tears coming anew to my eyes. "Not only must it offer comfort to the infirm, it must offer shelter as well. It must be strong, efficient, and able to withstand the fierce storms and earth tremors that occasionally strike this land. AIVAS may be able to offer guidance in these areas. Aside from that, I leave it to your inestimable skills how best to proceed."

"An interesting challenge," Fandarel rumbled, combing his massive fingers through his hair.

"Dolphineer Readis," I addressed him, "the Tillek supports the idea of this teaching hospital. Loki even suggested establishing a pod here to aid us with the injured and infirm, and I couldn't agree more. Your gift of the dolphin bell is an excellent start. I hope I can count on your help with the rest."

"I have already selected twenty of our finest swimmers to aid you," Theresa remarked.

"If it would not be asking too much," I said to her, "I'd like Loki to be one of them."

The Tillek seemed to smile. "She was the first to volunteer when I asked."

"Good healer!" Loki said, doing a tail stand. "Good friend! We do good together!"

"You asked for my decision," I said, addressing all those present, "and now you have it. Whatever we create here must be the absolute finest of our combined efforts. We owe it to Masterharper Robinton to do nothing less."

"Hear, hear!" everyone resolutely cheered.

Menolly and Sharra came forward, each giving me a tearful heartfelt hug and thanks for the choice of name. There was equal praise from the Benden Weyrleaders for the sound reasoning behind my decisions. All that remained now was the building of the hospital and its various support facilities. There were no arguments from anyone when I suggested we get started right away.

Master Fandarel headed immediately to Landing to consult with AIVAS on what advanced construction techniques might be available in its database. Master Oldive and the Weyrleaders immediately began consulting with all of the weyrs to determine who among the existing riders would be suitable candidates for the upcoming healers' weyr. And Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra set about meeting with the other Lord Holders to come up with a tentative list of people who would be needed as staff for Robinton Cove.

Little did we realize that somebody already had designs on Robinton Cove; dark and sinister plans that could spell the end for Benden Weyr and Ruatha Hold!


	30. Chapter 30 - Golden Fury

Chapter 30

 _Golden Fury_

 _ **Dark desires, fanned by greed,**_

 _ **Evil poised to do its deed.**_

 _ **But from above, a crimson light,**_

 _ **Fury's fire will set things right.**_

"Effin' bitch!"

A fist slams mercilessly into my midsection, sending searing pain exploding throughout my entire body. Bound, blindfolded, gagged, helpless, I could do nothing to stop it.

"Enough!" another argued. "If you kill her, it will ruin everything!"

How had it come to this? Why? Struggling against the agony, I searched my memories, calling upon every technique I'd learned at the Academy.

It had started with an evening get-together at Robinton Cove for those working on the new hospital. Tarnaa had just finished eating and had gone off to nap. The next thing I know someone is repeatedly beating me, kicking me, punching me. I can't see where I'm at, so I can't tell Tarnaa or the other Dragonriders. Whoever my captors were, I'm sure that was deliberate to avoid any retribution.

Arguing amongst themselves, I heard my captors move off, a door slamming behind them. I was alone once more.

Battered, bruised, and weak, my mind swam along the edge of consciousness. I wouldn't last much longer if this kept up.

"Tarnaa," I sobbed, the sound muffled by the gag in my mouth.

Benden Weyr flashed through my mind. My dragon, my heart and soul, Tarnaa, was there. Through our link, she knew what was happening, but was as helpless as I was to stop it. Ancestors, if only I could see her one last time!

Sightless because of the blindfold, I unexpectedly felt a brief episode of bone-numbing cold. My heart sank. I was dying. Oh, Tarnaa!

The chill passed, replaced by rushing wind. I'd heard stories about what people experience in the last moments of life, but this didn't seem to match any of them.

Sight returned, but everything was a wind-stung blur. Faintly, I could make out what appeared to be the Benden Weyr crater as though seen from high above. A golden blur was fast approaching. An angel come to take me to the next life? Weeping as my consciousness faded into oblivion, I fancied I heard someone howl, _LIFEMATE!_

Some indeterminate time later, I slowly began to stir. Almost at once, I noticed a difference. The pain was gone! In fact, I was downright comfortable! Was this what it was like to be dead? Opening my eyes, I jerked bolt upright in bed when I realized that I was back in my weyr at Benden!

 _LIFEMATE!_ Tarnaa hummed as she nuzzled my face. _I have missed you so!_

"Tarnaa!" I sobbed, hugging her fiercely. "Oh, Tarnaa!"

 _I am here, lifemate,_ she crooned, wrapping herself about me in a tender embrace. _You are safe now._

Goldie was there, too, flitting about the two of us, her carols of elation resounding throughout my quarters!

But how had I escaped? My only clear recollection was that brief episode of cold. I had thought that it was due to shock, symptoms of my body shutting down as it prepared to expire.

 _Tarnaa?_

 _Lifemate?_

 _How did I get here?_

 _I do not know._

 _What happened?_

 _You were falling. I caught you._

 _Falling?! From where?_

 _The skies above Benden._

 _How did I get there?_

 _I don't know._

Goldie landed on my shoulder, twining her tail ever so gently about my neck as she head-stroked my cheek, thrumming with joy at my return.

The skies above Benden?! That was the vision I'd had just before … I gasped, clutching Tarnaa's neck like a vise! It couldn't be!

 _Lifemate?_

My heart pounded beneath my ribs. The vision I'd had, the flash of cold, the wind rush. They all pointed to one impossibly insane conclusion. What was it that storybook character, Sherlock Holmes, had once said?

'When you have eliminated all other possibilities, whatever remains, however unlikely, must be the truth!'

I'd gone _between_! Without a dragon!

Slowly, I sagged back down onto the rushes, the room swimming about me.

 _Lifemate?_ Tarnaa urgently crooned, nuzzling my face.

 _Oh, my heart,_ I sobbed as I scratched her eye ridges, _I thought I'd never see you again!_

At that precise moment, a large contingent of weyrfolk burst into the room, Brekke and Ryeena leading the way!

"Dana!" Ryeena sobbed as she threw her arms around my neck.

"Oh, Sis!" Brekke wept as she embraced us both. "We've been so worried!"

"Me, too!" I whispered, hugging my adopted sisters tightly.

"Dana?" Lessa's hand on my shoulder drew my attention. "Can you tell us what happened?"

I shook my head. "The last thing I remember was the dinner that evening at Robinton Cove. Then nothing until the pain started."

"Someone drugged Tarnaa," F'lar reported, his expression grim as he came up behind his weyrmate.

"Fellis," Manora added, joining the Benden Weyrleaders. "Cleverly hidden so the taste would go unnoticed."

"When we first noticed you gone, we thought you had simply gone off to be alone for awhile," Brekke wept, hugging me once more. "But then we couldn't get Tarnaa to wake up! We tried to find you, … Oh, Dana!"

"How did you get away?" Ryeena wondered.

They would probably think I was crazy. " _Between_."

"What about it?" Lessa wondered.

I locked eyes with the Benden Weyrwoman. "I went _between_."

"All dragonriders can do that," F'lar argued.

"Without their dragon?"

It took a second for the idea to sink in. When it did, everyone gasped.

Manora broke the spell of this latest revelation, chuckling as she sat beside me on the bed. "If that's true, then clearly you inherited more than just your dragon eyes from Wirenth."

"By the Egg of Faranth!" F'nor whispered, clearly in awe. "A rider who can go _between_ without the aid of a dragon!" His expression growing suddenly serious, he growled, "Do you have any idea where you were being held?"

"Somewhere in the great Eastern Sea," I replied.

"You're certain?" Lessa asked, her stony expression barely masking the fury that roiled beneath.

I nodded. "The dragon contacts I made helped. Using them and my astronavigation training, I was able to approximate my location using Pern as a model. The heat and humidity were another clue."

"The exiles!" F'lar spat, his face turning crimson with rage. "They weren't happy with trying to destroy AIVAS. What could they possibly hope to gain taking the life of a queen rider?"

"If that was their true aim," I sighed, shaking my head. "I've a feeling there's something far more sinister behind this."

Muttering something under his breath, F'nor turned to leave.

F'lar stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To put a stop to whatever they're planning," his half brother growled. "They've gotten away with this for far too long!"

"And what do you plan on doing, brown rider?" I asked, my own gaze as steely as Lessa's. "So far, the only evidence we have are my bruises. We don't know as yet who is behind the abduction or why. Acting without proof would turn all of Pern against the dragonriders. Please, stay your hand for now. The guilty will be made to pay. I give you my word on that!"

The pitiless fury I felt inside was echoed by my lifemate's warning rumble. Tarnaa was as determined as Canth's rider to administer some punishment for the harm her lifemate and rider had suffered.

"If you must do something, F'nor," I said to him, "a very discrete sweep of the exile islands would be prudent. But do not go alone. Take a wingman with you and always have a jump point in mind during your sweeps just in case."

After a brief glance at F'lar, who nodded permission, F'nor left.

"Alert the other weyrs, Weyrleader," I told him. "Something evil is afoot and we'd best be ready for it."

Nodding, F'lar and Lessa departed.

Slowly, I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

"And where do you think you're going?" Ryeena demanded, a restraining hand on my shoulder.

"To get some fresh air," I sighed as I stood. "I'm too pissed right now to think clearly, and that could be dangerous … for everyone."

With that, I strode out of my weyr. I had a lot to think about.

What could the exiles hope to gain by kidnapping me? It made no sense! Having reviewed the data AIVAS had amassed about the alteration of the Red Star's orbit, it was clear the Dragonriders had succeeded in their efforts. The planetoid was on a slow inward spiral toward Rukbat. Five hundred years in the future, it would plunge into that thermonuclear inferno and be consumed, never to threaten Pern again. But, more importantly, it had been perturbed far enough off of its original orbital trajectory that it would no longer pass through this solar system's Oort Cloud and pull the deadly Thread spores along with it to rain down on Pern.

The Dragonriders knew full well what the end of Threadfall would mean for them. After all, what would the weyrs do once they were no longer needed to protect Pern? From the very beginning, they had willingly sacrificed themselves to keep the rest of Pern safe from the ravages of Thread. In bringing about an end to their ancient enemy, they had, in essence, made the ultimate sacrifice.

But what of the exiles? Born of an irrational fear of the rapid changes AIVAS had brought about, they had tried to destroy the Ancients' information center. They had kidnapped and nearly killed Masterharper Robinton. In the end, those who had conspired to destroy the AIVAS unit along with those who were part of the Masterharper's kidnapping had been brought before the Lords Holder and tried for their crimes. In spite of his injuries and the poor treatment he had been subjected to, Robinton had pleaded for mercy. The judgment handed down was severe. The guilty parties were banished to the Eastern Islands, condemned to live or die on their own without the protection the weyrs offered.

Out in the weyr bowl, I glanced about. My most immediate concern was my escape from my captors. How had I managed it? Had I truly gone _between_ just like a dragon could?

 _Only one way to find out_ , I reasoned as I headed off towards the Star Stones high above.

Weak from all the abuse I'd suffered at my captors' hands, it took me nearly an hour to climb to the Star Stones. Another ten minutes once I got there just to catch my breath. Slowly, I moved over to the edge of the clearing. I could see the weyr lake below shimmering in the morning light. This would make a good test. Concentrating on an image of myself standing beside the lake, I willed the transfer to take place.

Darkness enveloped me instantly, the bone-chilling cold of _between_ stealing my breath away. Seconds later, light and warmth returned, only now I was standing at the edge of the lake!

"Spirits of my ancestors!" I whispered, my knees nearly giving way.

"Oh! Dana!" R'del spoke as he appeared from the firestone bunker. "I didn't see you!"

No, you didn't, did you?

"Are you alright? You look a little pale."

"Fine," I assured him, hiding my trembling hands behind me. "Just needed some fresh air. See ya!"

As quickly as I could manage, I hurried back to my weyr.

A human who could go _between_ just like a dragon! No question about my inheritance from Wirenth!

Rolling across the bed, I pulled open the drawer of the nightstand and lifted out my blaster. Lying back down, blaster in hand, my thoughts inevitably turned to my captors. Some sort of plot was brewing, and Robinton Cove was somehow involved.

I pointed the blaster at the ceiling. A pity I could no longer use my weapon. Its firepower would be a powerful deterrent in any conflict. Before I realized what I was doing, I squeezed the trigger. A crimson beam shot out of the barrel, nearly stopping my heart!

"Ancestors!" I gasped, staring at the smoldering depression in the ceiling.

How could this be? My transformation plus the blaster's inherent security features should've prevented the thing from firing!

Dialing the blaster to a different setting, I grabbed a mug off the nightstand and flung it into the air. It disappeared in a cloud of scintillating particles as I used my blaster to disintegrate it! My howl of delight was so boisterous, it echoed across the Weyr bowl!

"Dana, what's going on?" Ryeena wondered, appearing from her own weyr.

"Ryeena, it's wonderful!" I exclaimed, sweeping her into a spinning embrace.

"What's wonderful?" she asked.

"C'mon!" I told her, dragging her at a run by the hand.

Outside in the bowl, I had her fling an old carry sack with some stones in it for weight into the air. She gasped as I used my blaster to vaporize it!

"But you told us you'd never be able to use it again!" Ryeena exclaimed as I clutched the blaster to my heart.

"I'm glad I was wrong," I grimly told her, fury sparking in my eyes. "I've a feeling we'll need it!"

"Now don't go doing anything stupid," Ryeena cautioned me, resting her hand on my arm.

"We heard a ruckus," F'lar spoke as he and Lessa came running up. Then he spotted the blaster in my hand, drawing the obvious conclusion. "But I thought you said…"

Picking up a rock, I sent it sailing, vaporizing it a second later with my blaster.

"That's not all I discovered," I said, adding a wink. "Watch this."

In the next breath, I vanished from sight!

"Crackdust!" F'lar gasped, he and the others glancing about.

"Up here!" they heard me shout.

"There she is!" Ryeena exclaimed, pointing to the Star Stones high above the weyr bowl.

Just as quickly, I reappeared back on the ground next to them.

"By the Egg of Faranth!" Lessa whispered, eyes threatening to pop from their sockets.

"Seems Manora was right, Weyrwoman," I chuckled, grinning at my friends. "I have inherited more from Wirenth than just my eyes!"

"Shards!" Lessa exclaimed, having finally regained her speech. "So, what now?"

"For now, we keep all of this a secret," I told them. "Our first priority is figuring out if the Exiles are behind this. If they are, what are they planning?"

While F'lar met with the other Weyrleaders to discuss a plan of action, I returned to Robinton Cove to brief the crews there and to put them on alert for any sort of hostile action.

"You're certain it's the exiles?" D'ram wanted to know.

"No, I'm not," I had to caution him and the others who were listening. "My best guess is my captors were somewhere in the Eastern Islands, but I don't know for certain if the Exiles are involved."

"Why would they try something now?" Piemur wondered. "And why here?"

"All good questions, my friend," I replied, gripping his shoulder. "But let's not jump to conclusions. I have no proof who was behind the abduction. All I know for certain is approximately where I was being held. We have to assume the Exiles are innocent until proven guilty."

"And how do we do that?" Lytol wondered, clearly disturbed by the abduction.

"F'nor and another rider are doing discreet sweeps over the Eastern Islands to see if they can find anything," I informed everyone. "I want all of you to be on alert for anything suspicious here." Hefting one of the new satellite phones Master Fandarel and his team had put together from plans AIVAS provided, I added, "Call me if you see anything."

That said, I leaped to Tarnaa's extended front leg, sprang from there to her back and clipped my riding belt into her harness.

 _Where are we going?_ she asked as she took us aloft.

 _To find the truth, my heart,_ I silently replied as we vanished _between._


	31. Chapter 31 - Eastern Intrigue

Chapter 31

 _Eastern Intrigue_

 _ **Dark desires, fanned by greed,**_

 _ **Evil poised to do its deed.**_

 _ **But Darkness can't abide the light,**_

 _ **Only the Truth will set things right.**_

Training took over. Practice turned into action. Using what I had learned from my classes in astronavigation at the Star Service Academy, I took Tarnaa to a spot high above where I was fairly certain my kidnappers had tried to conceal me.

The terrain below was somewhat mountainous though navigable. I directed my lifemate to a rocky outcropping on the edge of a cliff, a place that would afford us an excellent view of the landscape below.

My blaster was holstered, strapped to my leg. A pair of binoculars hung from around my neck. The satellite phone was clipped to my belt. And I had brought one more thing… a portable terminal pad linking me directly to the Yokohama's scanning system.

I had discovered it accidentally in one of the back storerooms of the AIVAS building. No one else knew what it was, but I had recognized it immediately. With it, I could access the Yokohama's onboard scanners and pinpoint any sort of life readings down to within a half meter.

There were plenty of life readings in the immediate area. Most were the typical fauna to be found in this region. Tapping several keys, I fine-tuned the scanners, giving me a breakdown on what lifeforms were harmless… and those that weren't.

"Hmm," I remarked aloud, examining some of the nearer readings. "Looks like the Southern felines have managed to migrate over to these islands, my heart. We'll have to be careful."

Perched atop my shoulder, Goldie gave a low hiss, her talons unsheathed. Chuckling, I patted her head.

 _These… felines,_ Tarnaa rumbled, swinging her head to the left. _They are bad?_

 _They act on instinct, my heart,_ I silently responded. _Not necessarily bad, but they could hurt us if we're not careful._

Tarnaa rose up on her haunches, a low rumbling coming from deep in her throat.

 _One is nearby,_ she warned me. _It is hunting something._

That got my attention. Checking the scanner pad, I located a solitary feline reading about 100 meters away in the direction my lifemate was facing… along with two distinctly human readings!

"Tarnaa, go!" I ordered.

We were instantly airborne, carried aloft by my lifemate's powerful wings and legs. As we got closer to the humans' location, I drew my blaster. That's when I heard the feline's roar… and a girl's scream!

A small clearing appeared ahead. I spotted the feline slowly circling the two humans my scanner had detected. One, an adult, was lying face down in the dirt. The other, the girl, was cowering behind the fallen human, shaking him, desperately trying to get him to rise.

The feline was about to pounce when Tarnaa let out a thunderous roar, startling the cat, causing it to wheel about. The moment it did, I fired my blaster, stunning it unconscious.

Tarnaa didn't need any urging from me. She backwinged to a landing next to the feline and I dismounted.

"Keep an eye on that brute, my heart," I told my dragon. "Warn me if it starts to wake up."

Then, I turned my attention to the two humans, removing my emergency kit as I approached.

"Go away!" the girl growled, spitting in the dirt. "We don't need your help."

"Fine," I growled back, tossing my kit to her. "Then you heal him."

The girl caught it, but glared at me with angry eyes.

"You can't help him, can you?"

The girl just glared at me, eyes like smoldering coals. I knelt a short distance away.

"Go away!" the girl insisted.

"If I do, he'll die. Is that what you want?" No response. "Well, is it?"

She glanced at my kit then at the man then back at me.

"I'm a healer. I can help… if you let me."

"Why should I believe you?" she snarled, throwing the kit back to me. "You're a dragonrider! You've never helped us! Never!"

"No? What about him?" I asked, thumbing toward the unconscious feline. "Would you be alive right now if we hadn't stopped him?"

The girl glanced quickly over at the feline then back at me.

"How do I know I can trust you? You're a fragging dragonrider!"

"You're just going to have to try," I replied, opening my kit.

The man was badly mauled. The feline's attack had been pretty vicious. I did my best to stitch the wounds closed and bandage the rest, but it was clear he was going to need more help than my kit could provide.

The girl had been quietly watching, distrustful of my actions, but I could sense some of her anger was turning to confusion.

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded as I was closing up my kit. "Why are you helping us?"

"Because I'm a healer," I replied. "It's what I do." Slinging my pack over my shoulder, I asked, "How far away is your home?"

"And why should I tell you?"

"I've done all I can for him here," I explained, fastening my kit onto Tarnaa's harness. "He needs to be moved to where he can rest and recuperate."

The girl looked down at the man, clearly worried.

"You have two choices," I told her. "We can take him back to your home, or we can take him to the Healer Hall at Fort Hold."

The girl looked torn, trying to make up her mind. I had the feeling this man was her father or, at the very least, a close family member.

"That feline will be waking soon. You'll have to choose."

The girl looked down at the man then back at me. Moments later, we were airborne, the man gently cradled in Tarnaa's claws, the girl sitting in front of me on Tarnaa's neck. She pointed off to the right.

A short time later, a small human outpost set into a rough hewn cliff face received a very unexpected and unwelcome visitor. Tarnaa backwinged to a gentle landing in a central clearing and lowered the wounded man gingerly to the ground while I eased the girl down my lifemate's side. An angry throng was quickly gathering as I dismounted. Silently, I sent my dragon aloft then turned to face the mob. Several came forward, each bearing what they could grab as a weapon. But then…

"No!" the girl countered, stepping in front of me, one hand raised in protest.

"Out of the way, Kara," one of the elders ordered, waving her aside. "We don't abide no stinkin' dragonriders here!"

"No!" the girl, Kara, argued, arms spread. "She's a healer! She helped us!"

"She's a dragonrider!" another growled, hefting his own weapon.

"She saved my da and me from one of the cats," Kara responded, gesturing my way.

"Kara's father should be okay," I added, "but he's going to need rest and further care from your healer in order to mend."

The crowd moved closer, looking ready to attack.

"NO!" Kara shouted.

She jumped at the hand I placed on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Kara. I'll go."

"But…"

"Take good care of your da."

"Wait."

Kara gasped, spinning to face…

"Da!" she wept, dropping to the ground to give him a hug. "You're okay!"

"That's a matter of opinion," he chuckled, returning the hug.

Then he turned to me.

"It's true? You helped us?"

I nodded.

"Why? Why would you, a dragonrider, help us?"

Shrugging, I responded, "Isn't that what friends do… help each other?"

"You're no friend of ours, dragonrider!" someone in the crowd growled, the others nodding along with him.

Sighing, I turned to leave, heading back to the center of the square. As I did, Tarnaa called out a warning from high above. Whirling, I drew my blaster, using it to vaporize the tree branch that had been thrown at me!

Everyone gasped, Kara clinging to her father, the others in the crowd backing away as I came back over to them.

"I bear none of you any ill will," I said, holstering my blaster. "I came to these islands seeking answers."

"Answers?" Kara's father spoke, shielding his daughter. "To what?"

"To why my lifemate was drugged unconscious," I replied, pointing skyward. Then, pointing at myself, I added, "To why I was drugged senseless, kidnapped, blindfolded, and beaten to within an inch of my life."

"Only what you deserved," one of the crowd hissed, spitting in the dirt.

"And you believe we had something to do with it?" Kara's father asked, his face grim.

I paused a moment, searching the faces around me.

"Have I accused anyone here?" I quietly responded.

Silence fell across the square, no one moving, not a sound to be heard until…

"No… no, you haven't," Kara spoke, her face mirroring her confusion.

"A teaching hospital is being built at Robinton Cove," I explained, sweeping them all with my gaze. "The place you may have known as Cove Hold, Masterharper Robinton's old home."

Tarnaa backwinged to a gentle landing just behind me. Turning, I quickly mounted, fastening my belt into her riding harness.

"When it is complete," I went on, taking in the crowd with my gaze, "it will be open to anyone on Pern."

"Not to us, it won't," one woman spat. "We're exiles, remember? Abandoned by the weyrs!"

"To all of Pern," I reiterated. "I am Dana, gold Tarnaa's rider, Masterhealer, Craftmaster of Surgery, and, thanks to Robinton's last will and testament, the new Lord Holder of Robinton Cove."

That got a reaction from nearly everyone.

"But the Holds, Halls, and Weyrs are autonomous!" Kara's father exclaimed. "It's been that way since the Ancients first came to Pern!"

"For the rest of Pern, yes, that much remains true," I agreed. "However, the healing facility at Robinton Cove is intended to be autonomous, completely self-sufficient, and staffed by dragon riding healers of the highest caliber who can reach anywhere on Pern in a matter of seconds, dispensing healing services wherever they are needed."

"To anyone on Pern?" Kara asked, stepping a bit closer. "Even exiles?"

"Yes, Kara, even exiles," I replied.

She drew a bit closer, glancing back at her father and the rest of the crowd. "Can you take my Da there?"

"Child, be still!" one of the elders hissed. "We need nothing from the dragonriders!"

"We have no healers here!" Kara argued, rounding on the one who spoke. "My Da could die if he doesn't get help!"

"The healing facility there isn't ready yet, Kara," I explained, shaking my head. "To get the care your father needs, I'd have to take him to the Healer Hall at Fort Hold."

"As your prisoner, no doubt," another agitator growled, hefting his weapon.

"As my patient," I countered. I looked straight at Kara's father. "You have no healers?"

He shook his head.

"I realize the past has given you little reason to trust me," I said to him, "but, if you wish, I will arrange to transport you to the Healer Hall where you can get the care you'll need to recover."

"Please, Da, go with her!" Kara urged him, kneeling beside him. Turning to me, she added, "You can take me as your prisoner. That way, Da won't try anything."

"Kara, no!" he protested, but the sudden movement brought on pain from the mauling and he collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily.

Unfastening my riding belt from Tarnaa's harness, I slid down her side to the ground. Then, I unclipped the sat phone and dialed a special number.

"Healer Hall, Oldive here," I heard.

"Sorry to bother you, Master Oldive," I said into the phone, "but I need a rescue basket brought to my location ASAP."

"Who's she talking to?" someone in the crowd whispered.

"Situation?" Oldive queried.

"I have a male subject, approximately 30 years of age," I explained. "He's been mauled by a Southern feline. I've patched him up as best I could, but he'll need intensive care to fully recover."

"The local healer can't handle it?"

"This village has no healers," I relayed. Then, following a short pause, I added, "He's an exile."

"I see," Oldive replied after his own short pause. "Very well. I'll get a rescue basket prepped right away. Should I alert the weyr?"

"No," I replied. "The situation here is tense enough as it is. I'll have Ryeena bring it."

"We're standing by, Dana. Good luck."

With that, he broke the connection.

"What is that thing?" Kara wondered.

"A sat phone," I explained, clipping it back on my belt. "It allows me to instantaneously communicate with anyone else around the planet who has one of these."

"Another of the thrice-cursed Ancients devices!" someone at the back of the crowd swore.

 _Sylene, I need you and Ryeena to go to the Healer Hall and retrieve a rescue basket and bring it to me,_ I silently called.

 _Of course, Masterhealer. Ryeena says we're on our way!_

Moments later, the pair popped out of _between_ just above the clearing, the rescue basket I'd asked for clutched in Sylene's front claws. The two settled to the ground behind Tarnaa, hardly kicking up any dust in the process.

"Ooh, there's a sour looking bunch," Ryeena whispered as she came up beside me, the rescue basket in tow.

"Prep the man for departure," I whispered back, drawing my blaster. "Don't do anything suddenly."

"Understood," Ryeena acknowledged.

"What is that?" Kara asked, watching as Ryeena set the unfamiliar object down.

"It's a rescue basket," Ryeena explained, undoing the basket's safety straps. "A portable stretcher. We use them to support and secure patients that need to be transported via dragon to medical help."

Kara looked dubious; her da even more so.

Once Ryeena had the safety straps laid out, she opened up a rescue blanket to line the basket with.

"Roll him on his side," Ryeena instructed, positioning the basket.

Kara helped her da roll to one side. Ryeena deftly slid the basket into position, then the man was gently eased onto his back again, the basket beneath him.

"Keep your arms in," Ryeena instructed her patient as she placed his arms at his sides.

She then quickly wrapped the rescue blanket around Kara's da then secured him in the basket with the straps. Once she was satisfied her patient was secure and comfortable, she fastened the four-point carry harness into the basket's side rails before trailing the carry cable back to her dragon. She fastened the cable into the special attachment point on Sylene's harness then mounted her dragon.

"Stand clear," Ryeena called out just as Sylene took off.

The cable whipped past as I stepped aside, and, a second later, the rescue basket and its human passenger were swiftly rising skyward! Moments later, they all vanished _between_.

"Where'd she take him?" Kara demanded.

"The Healer Hall," I replied, turning to face her. "Ready to go?"

Kara nodded.

With Tarnaa watchfully alert, I remounted then helped Kara up. I slipped a riding belt around her waist, fastening it into Tarnaa's rig.

 _Now, my heart,_ I urged as I turned forwards again.

Though her posture made her look threatening to the local villagers, she was actually in a quick departure pose. At my signal, she sprang skyward, her powerful wings carrying us swiftly aloft.

"Hang on, Kara," I shouted back over my shoulder. "We're going _between_!"

Instantly, sight and sound disappeared, replaced by that sightless, impossibly cold place that was _between_. Seconds later, we emerged into the air directly above the Harper Hall courtyard. Below, I could see the healers helping to carry Kara's da inside to be taken care of, Ryeena among them. Sylene took wing, heading for the Fort Hold fire heights in order to give us room to land.

Once on the ground, I undid the riding belts then eased Kara down to waiting hands. I quickly followed. From there, the two of us hurried up to the Healer Hall.

"You were right to be worried, Dana," Master Oldive remarked as we entered the main examination room. "He might not have survived without proper care."

"Master Oldive is in charge of the Healer Hall," I explained, nodding to my colleague. "This is Kara, Master Oldive, the wounded man's daughter."

"Were you injured, child?"

Kara didn't respond. She was staring at Oldive's spinal deformation!

"Oh, that!" he chuckled, giving Kara a wink. "A spinal malady, dear child. Worry not. It doesn't hurt a bit. Now then, were you injured by the cat?"

Mention of the feline snapped Kara back to the present. "No! No, I wasn't." She looked straight at me. "Dana arrived just before…"

"A fortunate occurrence, then," Oldive remarked, nodding. "Marta! Soony!"

Two women hurried in, answering the call.

"Please take young Kara here and help get her cleaned up," Oldive instructed, indicating the girl. "She and her da had a run-in with a Southern feline. I must stay here to see to his care."

"Of course, sir!" the one called Marta replied, gently taking Kara by the elbow. "This way, dearie. We'll get you all cleaned up."

The two women led Kara down to the bathing room. She was a little apprehensive, at first. The exiles didn't have the sort of geothermal heated water systems common in the weyrs and the major holds like Fort.

Kara stuck a tentative hand into the bathing trough then jerked it back out, exclaiming, "It's hot!"

"But not too hot, sweetling," Soony assured her, putting her own arm up to the elbow in the steaming water. "Come on, give it a go. You'll see!"

Sighing to herself, Kara slipped out of her dirty clothes then gently eased herself into the water, hissing once in a while as she did.

"Oh, dear me!" Marta exclaimed, finally able to see the extent of the scratches Kara had suffered. "Not to worry, petal. Soon as we get you nice and clean, we'll put some numbweed on those scratches."

"What's numbweed?" Kara blankly wondered.

"A topical pain reliever," I replied. "Typically found in a soothing salve."

Kara shrugged and the two Healer women got right to work. Once they felt they'd gotten every speck of dirt off Kara's skin and out of her hair, they helped her climb out of the bathing trough and toweled her dry.

From there, they wrapped Kara in a bathing robe and escorted her to an empty guest room where they applied generous amounts of the numbweed salve to her scratches. Afterwards, the women slipped Kara into a clean set of underthings and topped it off with a simple dress whose accents actually brought out the highlights in Kara's eyes.

But then, something went wrong. The two healer women sat Kara down on a stool and had just started to brush out her damp hair when…

"No, no!" Kara cried out, pushing the women away. "Leave me alone!"

She ran to the corner, crouching down, sobbing terribly.

"But, sweetie…" Marta stammered, a pained expression on her face.

"Leave us," I gently told the women, gesturing toward the door. "Please."

Slowly, they walked over to the door.

"Don't worry," I assured them, taking a seat on the floor near Kara. "We'll be fine."

Nodding, the women left, closing the door behind them.

For nearly an hour, Kara huddled in the corner, not looking up, sobbing forlornly. I said nothing, just sat there, waiting for her to calm down. Eventually, she did look up, tears running down her cheeks.

"Better now?" I asked, smiling at her.

"You're just trying to change me," she hissed, glaring at me. "Trying to turn me against my Da, against the other Exiles. Well, I won't let you! Leave me be!"

"If that's what you want, Kara," I responded, nodding to her. "But could I ask you something, first?"

"What?" she snapped, glaring at me.

"Why didn't you want them to style your hair?" I wondered. "They were just trying to make you look pretty, that's all."

"We don't wear our hair pretty," Kara growled. "We have to keep it tight, close to our heads. When you're trying to escape Thread, pretty hair is just another way for it to grab you and…"

"I see."

And I did, too, the reality of it making my heart ache.

"Kara?"

"What?" she hissed.

"Would you fix my hair the way they do on the islands?"

"What for? You don't have to worry about escaping Thread. You're a dragonrider!"

"Please. I'd like to see what it looks like, and you're the only one who can show me. Please?"

Kara had, by now, stopped crying. Glancing about the room, she stood.

"Sit there," she grunted, pointing to a nearby stool. Picking up the supplies the women had left, under her breath, she added, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

I sat on the stool and Kara got to work. Ten minutes later, after much brushing, tugging, twisting, and muttering, she said, "There. Finished. Happy?"

I picked up a hand mirror. My hair, normally flowing down past my shoulder blades, was now carefully and skillfully woven into a surprisingly stylish though severely compressed mass.

"Kara, it's beautiful!" I sighed, looking at my reflection from first one side then the other. "Thank you!"

"You're kidding, right?" she snorted, crossing her arms.

"No, I'm serious!" I replied, taking her hands. "It's beautiful! Thank you so much!"

It wasn't the response Kara had expected; confusion registering on her face and in her eyes.

"If you don't want those ladies to mess with your hair, just tell them not to," I said, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. "We won't force you to do anything you don't want to. I give you my word!"

"Your word," Kara grunted, looking away.

In spite of the anger I felt in her, she didn't try to take her hands away, filling me with hope.

"Kara, tell me what life is like for you in the islands."

"What?!"

"Please?"

"What for?"

"Kara, I feel your anger… and your pain. I want to understand what it's like for you there. Please tell me."

Kara looked away, eyes down. For several long minutes, we stood there, holding hands. Abruptly, she turned, locking eyes with me.

"Alright."

There was a couch in the room. We chose to sit there so we would both be more comfortable.

For nearly two hours, I sat there, listening to Kara describe what life was like for her and the other exiles in the Eastern Islands.

I wept openly when she told me how, at just seven Turns old, she had lost her mother to Thread. They had been caught out during a Fall. They'd found a shallow cave and Kara had just been shoved into it when the Thread fell, killing her mother.

"Oh, Kara, I am so sorry!" I sobbed, hugging her tightly. "How awful!"

"I had nightmares about it for months," Kara croaked. Abruptly, she stiffened, pushing me away. "And it's all thanks to you dragonriders!"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't lie to me!" she screamed, standing and backing away. "Everyone knows the dragonriders bring the Thread!"

"What?!" I gasped.

"Don't give me that hurt look!" Kara spat, waving her hand dismissively. "I know it's true!"

It took me a moment to overcome the shock of her anger.

"Kara, what makes you think the dragonriders bring the Thread?"

"Oh, don't give me that shocked look!" she growled, coming up to me. "Everyone in the islands says the same thing! Everyone!"

I waited several moments before continuing.

"Kara, have you actually seen dragonriders do this?"

The young girl from the Eastern Islands glared at me, but I could tell by the uncertainty in her eyes that she hadn't.

"Kara, how much have you heard about the Ancients, the people who came here from across the stars to settle on Pern?"

"From across the stars?!"

"Yes, Kara. From a place called Earth."

"I don't believe you. How?"

Rising, I said, "Well, I could take you to Landing…"

"Where the Abomination is?! No way!"

"There is one other place I could take you. It's not far from here on the Tillek peninsula near Misty Hold."

"What other place? What are you talking about?"

"We could take runners to get there, but the journey would take about three days. Or, we could take my dragon and be there in just a few minutes. Either way, it means you would have to trust me. Think you can do that?"

"Fine," Kara sighed, throwing up her hands. "Let's just get this over with!"


	32. Chapter 32 - Reunion

Chapter 32

 _Reunion_

With Silvina's greatly appreciated help, we fitted Kara out with a complete set of riding furs. Then, the two of us boarded Tarnaa and took wing, popping _between_ to the Tillek peninsula.

We circled briefly, then Tarnaa brought us to a very gentle landing next to the Quester's crash site.

"What is that?" Kara nervously asked as I helped her down from my dragon.

"A spacecraft," I explained, stripping off my riding furs.

"A what?!" Kara stammered as she removed her own.

"A mechanical device," I explained as we drew closer, "that allows humans like you and me to move across the great distances between stars."

"What?!" Kara exclaimed. "That's impossible!"

"No, it's not," I countered, pausing next to the closed hatch.

"How do you know this?"

Punching several buttons on the door pad, the hatch slid open, causing Kara to gasp and take a step back in surprise.

"Because this is what I used to get to Pern!"

"What?!" Kara gasped, backing up a few more steps.

"I wasn't born on Pern like you, Kara." Pausing a moment to allow that revelation to sink in, I added, "I come from the homeworld of the Ancients… from Earth!"

With that, I stepped through the hatch, leaving the stunned and speechless Kara outside.

In my sleeping quarters, I opened one of the dresser drawers. In the back, I retrieved a couple of spare power cells for my blaster. I figured I might need them later.

As I was about to exit, I heard a familiar voice say, "Whoa, little lady. Better keep back. This place isn't too safe."

"It's alright, Messan," I greeted the burly holder as I emerged. "She's with me."

"Dana!" he cried, picking me up in a bear hug. "It's been so long! Where've you been?" Then, remembering himself, he set me down. "Sorry. Hope you didn't mind."

"Not in the least," I chuckled, thumping him on the shoulder. "Holder Messan, allow me to introduce Kara, a young acquaintance of mine."

"A pleasure, Miss," he responded, bowing respectfully to her.

"Kara's a little doubtful about my story."

"What story?" Messan asked, glancing from me to her. "Which one?"

"The one about how I came to Pern."

"Oh, it's true, miss," he responded, a broad grin on his face as he looked at Kara. "I was out plowing my fields when this thing came roaring over my head! Had to cut the spooked runners loose from their harnesses before they could destroy my plow!"

"You actually saw this thing in the sky?!" Kara gasped, glancing from us to the Quester.

"Yep!" Messan chuckled, grinning from ear to ear. "Damnedest thing I ever saw!"

"I had been badly injured in the crash," I told Kara. "Holder Messan and several other holders nearby rescued me. I don't remember much of what happened, but I woke up in the Healer Hall at Fort Hold."

"Least we could do after you saved Ryeena from those wherries," Messan replied, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Oh, maybe there's something you can help me with."

"Of course," I assured him, nodding. "If I can."

"I overheard the strangest rumor just yesterday," he explained, planting his fists on his hips.

"What sort of rumor?" I wondered aloud.

"Some fardling nonsense about you being a Lord Holder now!" Messan chuckled, gently thumping my shoulder.

"Ah!" I sighed, smiling knowingly. "Then you've heard about the teaching hospital!"

Holder Messan was very excited about the prospects of the teaching hospital. Turns out he'd been approached by Jaxom and his planning team as a possible holder to help Robinton Cove become self-sufficient.

It was while we were in quiet discussion about the hospital and its future that I noticed Kara cautiously peering through the open hatch of the Quester. When she slowly, timidly stepped through the opening, Messan moved to stop her, but I pressed my hand against his chest, shaking my head.

"She needs to see this, Messan," I quietly spoke, "to help her find the truth."

"What truth?" he wondered.

"She's been brought up to believe that dragonriders bring Thread."

"Wha… tha… that's absurd!" Messan spluttered, trailing off to a whisper as I held my hands up for quiet.

"Not in her village," I whispered back. Locking eyes with the burly holder, I told him, "She's from the Eastern Islands."  
"She's an exile?!" Again, hands up for quiet.

"Strictly speaking, no, she isn't," I argued, glancing from him to my ship.

"What are you on about? You just told me she's from…"

"She was born in the Eastern Islands, Holder Messan," I explained, using his title to get his attention, "but that is the only thing she is guilty of. She was not one of those who tried to destroy AIVAS nor was she one of those who had kidnapped Masterharper Robinton, hoping to blackmail the rest of Pern into destroying 'the Abomination'."

Messan glanced from me to the Quester.

"While I was at Fort Hold," I went on, following his gaze, "I checked the records of those sad times. Her parents weren't among those charged with the crimes. They willingly chose to follow the banished ones into exile. The true crime here is that Kara's elders fed her with their hatred and anger, convincing her that it was the dragonriders and not the Red Star that brought the Thread to their islands."

"But…"

"With no weyr to protect them, it has been very difficult to survive there."

"I know about that," Messan argued. "Still…"

"She lost her mother to Thread when she was only seven."

Holder Messan's eyes grew enormous, his face turning white as a sheet.

"I wanted to take her to Landing so that she could see the video records there," I explained, smiling slightly as I spotted Kara's head through the Quester's cockpit windows, "but she had been raised on stories of 'the Abomination' and 'the thrice-cursed Ancient devices'. This was a place and a thing she hadn't heard of."

Clapping Messan on the shoulder, I added, "Knowing your curious nature, I figured you'd show up, especially when a queen dragon put in an appearance. Your presence here and your independent testimony about how I arrived on Pern lent substance to my story."

Turning toward the open hatch, I murmured, "Now if only Kara can find the courage within to accept the truth."

Kara was standing perfectly still, staring out the windshield, one hand on the headrest of the pilot's seat as I quietly came up beside her.

"Have a seat," I suggested, gesturing toward the pilot's seat.

"What?! No, I…" she stammered, snatching her hand behind her back.

"Please," I insisted, repeating the gesture.

Fear warred with curiosity. Slowly, curiosity won out, and Kara settled into the pilot's seat. For nearly ten minutes, I stood silently, watching as she examined the Quester's instrument panels.

Moving around to her right, I knelt on the floor beside her and said, "Kara, I'd like to turn on the ship's power, if that's alright."

"What do you mean?" she wondered, glancing at me. "What's power? What does it do?"

That brought me up short. How do you explain something to someone who has never seen it before?

"Think of power as though it was moving water," I began, gesturing around the cockpit. "Flowing rivers can transport boats from one place to another. That same flowing water can be used to turn wheels to do mechanical work… sawing wood or grinding grain." Then, I hit on another comparison. "You've seen lightning in storms, haven't you?"

"Of course, everyone has," Kara shrugged. "What's that have to do with this power you mentioned?"

"Do you know what lightning is?"

The confused expression on Kara's face let me know that she didn't.

"Lightning is a very intense form of power called electricity," I explained. "Have you ever touched something and felt a little jolt or saw a tiny spark jump between your finger and the object you touched?"

"Sometimes," Kara admitted.

"That's another form of electricity called static electricity," I said. "There are devices in my ship that store electricity. They're called batteries. The electricity they store moves through tiny metal conduits called wires. Just like the moving water of rivers that can turn wheels that do work for us, the electricity that flows through the wires of my ship allow me to control various devices here in the cockpit. Would you like me to show you?"

Kara shrugged, but I took heart from the fact that she hadn't turned fearful of the idea.

"I want you to watch me as I turn the power on, Kara," I told her, lifting the cover over the power control panel. "You will hear many sounds you are not familiar with. If you watch my face, you will know if there's anything you should be worried about. Do you understand?"

Kara nodded.

"Right, then, here we go," I said as I flipped the batteries switch.

Given the shape my craft was in, I had fully expected several of the overhead panels to short out, spark, smoke, or do something worse. To my surprise, the emergency systems powered up without so much as a hiccup. A few of the warning alarms chirped at me but a quick press of the disable buttons silenced them.

Kara was positively wide-eyed with wonder as she glanced about the now illuminated cockpit.

"How?" was all she could gasp, eyes threatening to pop from their sockets.

"I realize it's all a bit much to take in," I chuckled, glancing about. "Tell you what. Ask away. Whatever questions you have, I'll do my best to answer them, alright?"

For nearly an hour, we talked; Kara asking her questions while I did my best to answer them. After what she had told me about 'the Abomination' and 'the thrice-cursed Ancient devices', I had fully expected her to bolt from the Quester. To my surprise and delight, she didn't, filling me with hope.

"So it's a matter of knowing which instruments to look at to get the information you need, is that right?" Kara asked, gesturing about the cockpit.

"Exactly!" I cheered, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Good for you!"

"What is this one used for?" she asked, pointing off to one side.

Glancing past her shoulder, I saw she was gesturing at a familiar instrument with its characteristic sweep arm rotating about the center.

"That's the short range radar," I explained. "It uses another form of power or energy called radio waves to detect objects and measure their distance and movement. That's what radar stands for… Radio Detection And Ranging."

"Is it tracking something now?" she wondered, pointing at the screen.

As I looked closer, I could see the small dot on the screen Kara was pointing at. But given the scale the scope was set at, whatever that blip was, it was bigger than anything living on Pern!

The surprise must've shown on my face because Kara asked, "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Reaching past her, I pressed one of the buttons under the screen, activating the radar's ability to detect any transponder information. The moment I did, the blip lit up with tracking numbers I instantly recognized!

"By the Fire Falls of Firlea!" I whispered, slowly rising to my feet. "It can't be!"

"Dana, what is it?" Kara nervously wondered, glancing from me to the screen. "What is that thing? Dana!"

I was already dashing down the hallway, then out the open hatch and past a startled Messan before finally coming to a stop on a nearby hill. Seconds later, he and, surprisingly, Kara, joined me there.

"Dana, what is it?" Messan wondered, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Something I thought never to see again," I whispered, tears trickling down my face.

"Is that…" Kara stammered, pointing at the rapidly approaching black spot, "a spacecraft?!"

"Not just any spacecraft," I replied as the vessel switched to vertical flight and settled to the ground a short distance away. "A Star Service shuttle!"

The three of us stood there, staring in amazement, for several long minutes; not moving, not uttering a sound. Then, the hatch on the side of the vehicle hissed open and two beings emerged, setting foot on the soil of Pern!

"It can't be!" I whispered, taking a few steps toward the new arrivals.

And then, I broke into a run, crying and laughing at the same time. Reaching the duo, I leaped at the taller of the two, being careful not to crush his gill slits with my hug around his neck!

"Dav!" I sobbed, hugging him tightly. "I can't believe it's you!"

Oh, the look of surprise on his face!

"I'm sorry, Miss," he stammered, easing me to my feet. "But… do I … know you?"

"Yes … and no!" I chuckled, slapping him gently on the arm.

Then, I turned to the other new arrival. Laying my hand against his furry face, I quietly spoke, "Zu ch'har, ko naku ellero so ama nu batas!" My brother, I thought never to see you again!

"Key, that sounded like…" Dav stammered, glancing from his companion to me.

"The Kendite tongue," Dav's feline biped companion just as quietly spoke. "Can this be?"

"Perhaps this will help you understand," I said, unholstering and handing my weapon to him.

"A Star Service blaster?!" Dav exclaimed, glancing down at the weapon then at me.

"Star Service P.I.C. one alpha niner two bravo zulu," I said, grinning at the two dearest people in the cosmos to me. "At least, that's what it was while I was still your team leader!"

"JOHN!" they both gasped, taking a step back in surprise.

"Who else?" I chuckled, gently taking my blaster from Key and putting it back in my holster. "What by all the hells are you two doing here so far from Federation space?"

"By the sacred waters," Dav stammered, taking a step forward. "Is it really you?"

"Don't you recognize my ship?" I responded, thumbing over my shoulder.

"The Quester!" Key whispered, joining Dav. Turning to me, he asked, "Mapa tok ze asta kekt?" When did we first meet?

"Kanta vo malapanta rasmano," I replied, grinning as I recalled the day. At the matriarch's wedding.

The stunned look on Key's face was absolutely priceless! A look that slowly transformed into one of pleased acceptance.

"So, then, my brother… is now my sister!" he quietly spoke, gently laying his forepaws on my shoulders.

"Jays, skipper, what happened to you?" Dav wondered, still in a state of disbelief.

"It's a long story!" I chuckled, clasping my forearm to his.

And then, I remembered I wasn't alone.

"Come on, I'd like you to meet some friends of mine," I told them.

Seeing the three of us approach, Messan seemed apprehensive. Kara looked like she was either going to faint… or run like hell!

Stopping a short distance from my two Pernese companions, I was about to say something when Goldie popped out of _between_ , circling me once before lighting ever so gently on my shoulder where she then turned to regard the new arrivals.

"What… is that?" Dav gasped.

"A small quadrupedal winged lizard," Key concluded, studying my little friend.

"The locals here call them fire lizards," I explained, stroking Goldie's neck ridge. "The males of this species can actually breathe fire!"

"Seriously?!" Dav and Key both gasped.

"Just so you know," I told them, adding a wink, "they have larger cousins." Turning toward my ship, I called out, "Tarnaa, would you come here, please?"

Dav and Key both gasped, taking several steps backwards as my lifemate lifted her head up from behind my crashed vessel. As she lumbered over, my Star Service friends took several more steps back, stopping only when Tarnaa finally reached my side.

"Dav, Key," I said, gently patting my dragon's neck, "allow me to present my lifemate, the golden dragon Tarnaa."

For nearly a minute, Dav and Key stared at me and my dragon, their jaws working but nothing coming out. It was Kara, however, who finally broke the silence.

"Looks like they're about to mess themselves!" she laughed, coming up beside me.

"For a minute there, I thought I was," Messan remarked as he joined us, "when I first saw these two… Dana, what are they?"

"They may look different than you and I, good holder," I chuckled, giving his shoulder a thump, "but these two beings are the dearest souls in the galaxy to me!"

"You'll have to forgive my companions, Dav, Key," I said, grinning at my Star Service friends. "They've never met extraterrestrials before!"

Stepping between the two groups, I said, "Holder Messan, friend Kara, allow me to present my two comrades from the Federated Sentient Planets: Davar from Aquilos 2, and Keymon De'Resarth from the People's Heart, Pun Ch'Lar."

" _ **THE**_ Keymon?!" Messan gasped, staring at my feline friend. "The one who taught you that song?!"

"Song?" Dav wondered.

"I do not understand," Key admitted.

So, I sang a short bit of the song's beginning. When I abruptly stopped before she could join in, Goldie snorted in disgust, head-butting my cheek with surprising force!

"It's become quite popular here," I explained to my two Federation friends, chuckling as I gave Goldie's neck ridge a scratch. "They named it 'Keymon's Song' since you were the one who taught it to me, Key."

My smile grew broader as I noticed a slight hint of blush beneath the fur on his face.

"That is … most generous of them," he quietly spoke, nodding to me.

Trying to gauge their reactions to my two Federation friends, I glanced over at Messan and Kara. There was no mistaking the look of awe and wonder on Messan's face; a quite understandable reaction that I'd observed on many first contact missions. Kara's reaction, however, was a mix of confusion … and fear. It didn't take much to guess why.

"Among the many Earth species that were introduced to Pern by the original colonists," I explained, "was a breed of mountain lion. They seem to prefer the more tropical climes of the southern continental region and the equatorial islands there." Looking from Kara to Key, I added, "Kara's father was mauled by one of the felines just a few days ago. He was badly hurt but should recover from his injuries."

"Ah, that explains it," Key remarked, nodding understanding.

Dropping to one knee, he lowered his head, saying, "I pray you will give me the opportunity to prove to you, young one, that I am not like my distant Terran cousins." Looking up, meeting Kara's gaze, he said, "I hope that we could become friends… if you'll let me."

For several long moments, no one moved. Then, slowly, tentatively, Kara put out her hand… and touched Key's face.

"You look like them," she whispered, gazing into his feline eyes.

"Yes, little one," he just as quietly responded.

"I don't know," Kara muttered, backing up a step as she lowered her hand. "I…"

"Please?" Key begged, slowly extending his paw.

Uncertain, Kara glanced my way. Smiling, I nodded.

Slowly, gingerly, she reached out, taking hold of Key's paw. "Alright… I'll try."

"You honor me, young one, with your courage," Key told her as he slowly rose. "My thanks to you."

"You guys remember the psionics screening we each went through?" I asked Dav and Key.

"Oh, don't get me started on that!" Dav groaned, holding up his hands. "My head still hurts from all that probing!"

"I share your pain, Dav," Key muttered, wringing his paws. "I shed a lot of fur from all the stress. I never thought it was going to end!"

"What's sigh… sigh oh…" Messan fumbled, trying to repeat the unfamiliar word.

"Psionics," I replied. "Special abilities of the mind… like telepathy, the ability to communicate from one mind to another without speech."

"You mean, like dragons and their riders?" Kara wondered.

"Yes, exactly!" I replied, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Turns out all those fancy testers back at the Academy missed something, guys," I said, grinning at my two Federation friends.

"What do you mean?" Dav inquired, glancing first at Key then back to me.

"From the moment I landed on this world," I explained, patting Tarnaa's neck while giving Goldie a scratch, "I found I was able to telepathically communicate not only with fire lizards but with dragons, too!"

"WHAT?!" my Federation friends both gasped, eyes threatening to pop from their sockets.

Tarnaa moved her head closer, whuffling first Dav then Key.

"Skipper, what…" Dav stammered.

"Don't panic," I assured him. "It's okay. She's just checking you out. Kind of like a bioscan."

"What's a bioscan?" Kara wondered.

"A bioscanner is a mechanical device we used in the Federation to examine individuals," I explained. "It uses different types of sensors, kind of like the radar in my ship that detected their shuttle approaching."

Finished, Tarnaa withdrew her head.

 _Good friends_ , she rumbled, her eyes shading to a brilliant blue color. _Strong bond_.

I relayed Tarnaa's opinion to my two Federation friends who, upon hearing it, had the good graces to look a little embarrassed!

"You two are a long ways off the beaten path," I chuckled, planting a fist on my hip. "I'm delighted by the visit, but what brought you here?"

"Long range deep space scanners picked up evidence of a matter-antimatter explosion not too long ago," Dav replied, first to regain his voice.

"The Wolfhound was the closest vessel to this sector," Key chimed in. "Since there were no known spacefaring races this far out, we were dispatched to investigate."

"As we got closer to this star system, scanners picked up traces of warp drive emissions," Dav continued, "plus some minor spacecraft debris."

"Yeah," I sighed, shaking my head. "Got caught by an unexpected meteor storm. Ended up crash-landing on the very world I was looking for!"

"This has to do with that message rocket we found, doesn't it?" Key asked, clearly excited.

"Indeed it does, my brother," I replied, grinning as I put my arms around Messan and Kara. "My friends, welcome to a long lost piece of ancient Earth history. Welcome to Pern!"


	33. Chapter 33 - Revelations

Chapter 33

 _Revelations_

"Pern?" my two Federation comrades wondered as one.

"Taken from the survey team's assessment acronym," I chuckled. "Don't you remember?"

"Oh, wait!" Dav exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Yes! Now I do! P.E. … parallels Earth!"

"And R.N.," Key chimed in. "Resources negligible!"

"With a superscript C indicating the survey team felt the planet was suitable for colonization," I finished.

"Wait a sec!" Messan stammered, coming forward. "Colonization?! Are you telling me…"

"Humans are a recent addition to this planet's history, good holder," I explained, waving my arm in a wide circle. "Over 2000 Turns ago, 6000 colonists set out from Earth on a one-way 15-Turn journey to a new home and way of life here on Pern!"

The stunned look on Messan's face was eloquent, his silence even more so.

"Landing," Kara whispered, her suddenly enormous eyes dwarfing her slender face.

Everyone turned to stare at her.

"That's why it's called … Landing!" she exclaimed, her gaze fixing on me.

Smiling, I nodded, relieved that Kara had made the connection, garnering yet another small bit of the truth.

"What is, little friend?" Key wondered, kneeling in front of her.

"The place in the Southern Continent!" Kara replied, her eyes locked with mine. "That's where the colonists … the Ancients … landed, isn't it?"

Another nod from me.

"Surprisingly, Dav, Key," I spoke, glancing over at them, "the three colony ships are still parked in geosynch, the automated onboard systems having kept their orbits stable all this time."

"Whoa!" was all Dav could gasp, stunned by the news.

"It was one of the reasons we came planetside," Key explained. "Captain Morgan was flabbergasted by the discovery!"

"And then, we picked up radar emissions coming from this location," he went on, standing to face me. "Clearly a sign of intelligent life, so Dav and I were dispatched to investigate. We had no idea we'd find you here!"

Tears trickling down my face, I gave each of my Federation friends a long, gentle hug.

"Ancestors, how I've missed you two!" I wept, stepping back to look at them. "How long can you stay?"

Dav and Key looked at each other then back at me.

"However long it takes…" Dav began, the biggest ever grin on his face.

"To hear the whole story!" Key finished, gently setting his paw on my shoulder.

"I want to see it," Kara spoke into the silence that followed.

"See what?" I wondered.

"Landing," she replied, grimly serious. "I want to see it!"

My mouth fell open, eyes bulging in surprise.

"Skipper, what is it?" Dav asked, glancing from me to my young friend.

"An … unexpected development," I replied, my eyes never leaving Kara's face. "Are you sure about this? You may not like what you find there."

Kara didn't say a word. The look in her eyes was proof that not even Threadfall would keep her away.

"How do you want to get there?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she wondered, glancing around.

"Well, we could go adragonback like we did coming here," I explained, slapping Tarnaa's side. "Or we could take my friends' shuttle…"

"With your permission, of course," I added, nodding to Dav and Key.

"How far away is this Landing place?" Key wondered.

"That part of the Southern Continent is a good ten or more hours ahead of us here," I explained. "At Mach 5, it would take several hours to get there."

"Hours?!" Messan gasped, trying to take it all in. "Our fastest sailing vessels would take weeks to get there!"

"A suborbital shot isn't much better," I went on. "You'd get there faster, but the additional stress and fuel consumption probably shouldn't be used except in an emergency."

"Then we'll take your dragon," Kara replied.

"No offense intended," Dav muttered, glancing up at Tarnaa's slowly whirling eyes, "but how is this dragon faster than our shuttle?"

"You'll just have to see for yourselves!" I chuckled, pulling a couple of spare riding belts from Tarnaa's supply bags.

While Kara and I put our riding furs back on, Dav and Key secured their shuttle against intrusion. Fitting each of my Federation friends with their own riding belt, I helped Kara up first. I went up second, then helped Dav and Key settle onto Tarnaa's neck ridge behind me.

Making certain all the riding belts were securely fastened into Tarnaa's harness, Goldie firmly ensconced on my shoulder, I glanced back, asking, "Ready?"

"As we'll ever be," Dav muttered, looking a bit nervous.

"Then let's get airborne, my heart!" I said, giving Tarnaa's neck a loving pat.

Spreading her great gossamer wings, Tarnaa took a few running strides to gain momentum, then leaped skyward!

"Whoo hoo!" I cried out, never tiring of that feeling.

That sudden acceleration caught my two Star Service friends by surprise. Dav leaned into me, gripping me rather tightly about the waist. Key was probably doing the same to Dav!

Higher and higher we spiraled into the sky, the ground below receding until their shuttle was just a postage stamp.

"Do… do the locals here … do this a lot?!" Dav stammered in my ear.

"No, only the dragonriders!" I chuckled, patting his hands.

Goldie snorted her opinion.

"Hang on!" I shouted back to my two friends. "Here we go!"

Just as I felt Dav's grip tighten around my waist, I silently told my dragon, _Take us between to Landing_!

Darkness enveloped us. As did the bone chilling cold. Seconds later, we emerged from _between_ high above the Landing plateau.

"Well, here we are," I shouted.

As Tarnaa spiraled lazily downward, I felt Dav's grip around my waist slowly relax. Seconds later, in spite of the wind rush, I heard him gasp.

"By the Fire Falls of Firlea!" Key exclaimed.

"Welcome to Landing, Dav, Key!" I shouted back to them.

It took Tarnaa a few minutes to finally reach the ground, settling gracefully to a gentle touchdown in front of the AIVAS building. It took a few more minutes for my Star Service friends to overcome the shock of the journey.

"You first, Kara," I said, easing her down Tarnaa's side.

Then I carefully helped Dav and Key descend to solid ground once more.

"What … was that?!" Dav exploded, first to recover his wits.

"We call it _between_ ," I chuckled, shucking my riding furs.

Key, meanwhile, had his scanner out, taking readings.

"We've traveled nearly halfway around the planet!" he gasped, double-checking his findings.

"And did it in only a few seconds," I finished for him. "Dragons, like Tarnaa here," and I patted her golden hide affectionately, "can teleport themselves and their riders anywhere on the planet."

"'Porting?!" Dav gasped.

"Yep!" I chuckled, using my hand to close his jaw.

Then, I turned to Kara. She was standing perfectly still, her gaze fixed squarely on the AIVAS building. I was just about to say something when she abruptly squared her shoulders and went inside.

"Skipper?" Dav spoke aloud.

"I'll explain later," I told him. "Come on."

Activity was a little light in the facility as we entered. Kara was slowly making her way down the long corridor, peering into each room as she went. There were a lot of Master Fandarel's people here, probably doing research on building techniques they would use for the hospital being built at Robinton Cove.

"Lots of computer terminals in here," Key noted.

"This building houses the colonists' AIVAS unit," I explained.

"It's still functional?!" Dav gasped, clearly surprised.

"Still, old friend," I chuckled, giving his shoulder a thump.

By now, Kara had reached the end of the long hall, pausing at the doorway that led to…

"Say 'hello' to AIVAS, Kara," I said as I entered the room.

For several long minutes, she stood there, frozen with indecision.

Behind her, Dav and Key looked confused, even concerned. They didn't understand what was going on. Using a few of the silent hand signals I still remembered from our first contactor days, I cautioned patience; that all would be revealed soon.

Hesitantly, Kara took a step into the room. "This… is AIVAS?"

"It's an abbreviation," I explained. "It stands for Artificial Intelligence Voice Address System."

"Artificial what?!"

"AIVAS is a mechanical device," I continued. "It's similar to the devices on board my vessel, just more sophisticated. It can, to a certain extent, think for itself…"

"What?!"

"And respond to people in an almost human fashion," I finished.

"It is good to see you again, Masterhealer," AIVAS remarked, startling Kara and my two Federation friends.

"Stars above, it still works!" Dav gasped, he and Key slipping into the room behind Kara.

"An Aquilan and a Kendite," AIVAS noted. "You are from the Federation vessel recently arrived in orbit above Pern?"

Kara whirled, staring at my two friends. Then she turned to me.

"How does it know?" I spoke, giving voice to her silent question. "Just as my ship has sensors, just as Dav's and Key's has sensors, this AIVAS unit has its own. These sensors are like our eyes and ears and other senses. While it cannot move about like you or I, AIVAS is able to see and hear what is going on around it. Using sensors like my radar, AIVAS would've 'seen' the Federation vessel entering this star system."

"AIVAS, has anyone else been notified of the Wolfhound's arrival?" I asked.

"Negative, Masterhealer," the unit responded. "As the original colonists had never anticipated the arrival of any other Federation vessels, no protocol was ever entered into this unit to cover such a contingency."

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Dav argued. "What if they had needed assistance during a crisis?"

"The original colonists were attempting to flee from the corrupt syndicate controlled technocracy that existed in the Federation at the time of their departure," AIVAS instantly replied. "They did not want help nor did they expect any."

"When you have a chance to, Dav, Key," I told them, "do a search in Federation records for any mention of the Pern Colony Expedition. You won't find so much as a footnote anywhere."

"You weren't from Pern," Kara spoke, glancing from AIVAS to me. "You said so yourself. How did you learn of its existence then?"

"We were on a survey mission a while back, young friend," Key explained, "preparing the way for another team to make first contact with a new civilization."

"We were just about to head home when we stumbled upon an old message rocket floating dead in space," Dav chimed in. "The skipper here spent months examining it, trying to figure out where it had come from."

"What's a message rocket?" Kara wondered.

"A last chance means of trying to summon help, Kara," I replied. "What I found on the rocket was its identification number. From it, I was able to determine who had made it and who it had eventually been assigned to."

"You just said there was no mention of the Pern Colony anywhere in Federation records!" Dav spoke, frowning at me.

"No electronic records, true," I told him, a slight smile on my face.

"Printed media would've been available at the rocket's manufacturer," AIVAS chimed in.

"That's right," I replied. "Thanks to those records, I was able to identify the rocket's owner as the Pern Colony Expedition."

"Since every Federation colony is required to submit a printed application for approval," I explained to my three companions, "I was able to find the Pern Colony charter at the FSP headquarters on Earth!"

"Why, then, is there no mention of the colony in Federation records?" Key politely inquired.

"To understand that, first you need to know who the original colonists were," I explained. "AIVAS, could you show us a visual record of the expedition leaders, please?"

A nearby monitor came to life, still images appearing on its screen.

"Admiral Paul Benden, Governor Emily Boll, Kitty Ping Yung," AIVAS began, showing the first three images.

"Admiral Benden?!" Dav exclaimed, his gill slits flaring. " _ **THE**_ Admiral Benden?!"

"AIVAS, hold," I instructed the machine.

The replay froze.

"Yes, _**The**_ Admiral Benden," I told my Federation comrade. "The one we studied at the Star Service Academy, the one who led the Purple fleet in the defeat of the Nathis back then."

"And Governor Emily Boll," Key whispered, clearly surprised. "She led New Centauri during all those merciless Nathi attacks!"

"And Kitty Ping, the preeminent biogeneticist in the galaxy," I finished, "taught by the Eridani themselves."

"They were part of the colony?!" Dav gasped.

"Yes," I replied.

"Then why is there no mention of them in Federation records?" Key wondered.

"The Masterhealer believes the FSP practiced selective amnesia," AIVAS explained, "erasing any memory of the colony rather than acknowledge the disaffection of so many famous and important individuals."

"By the sacred waters!" Dav hissed, clearly stunned by this revelation.

"I suffered severe concussion and coma following my crash landing," I went on. "Once I returned to consciousness, I quickly learned that the citizens of Pern still honor their ancestors, the original colonists. Lands and settlements are named after them: Benden Weyr, Boll Hold, and so on. And the dragons owe their very existence to Kitty Ping!"

"But… there've always been dragons!" Kara stammered.

"Not so, friend Kara," AIVAS countered. "Before the arrival of the colonists, dragons did not exist. Once Thread began to fall, the colonists biogenetically engineered the dragons from their smaller fire lizard cousins as a way to combat the scourge of Thread!"

"No, you're lying!" Kara sobbed, backing away. "Dragons bring Thread!"

"Kara," I quietly spoke.

"They do!" she sobbed, tears running down her face as she looked at me.

"But thread is harmless!" Dav chimed in. "We use it to sew our clothes and many other things."

"Not this kind, Dav," I muttered, shaking my head. "There is a rogue planet recently captured by this star system's gravitational well. It has a highly eccentric orbit that carries it through this system's Oort Cloud. As it does, its own gravity pulls debris along behind it, debris that includes spores."

"Spores?" Key asked.

I nodded. "During what they call a Pass, the Red Star, as it is known by the locals, pulls this debris into the orbital path of Pern. The spores then rain down on this planet, transforming during the fires of reentry into mindless voracious organisms that consume anything organic."

"Ancestors!" Key hissed, eyes wide in horror.

"Sacred waters, no!" Dav chimed in, his own eyes matching Key's.

"Because it falls in long thin strands, it became known as Thread."

"That's a lie!" Kara shouted, balled fists quivering at her waist. "Dragons bring the Thread!"

"Friend Kara," Key quietly spoke as he knelt before her, "Dav and I have known Dana for many, many years, and in all that time, she has never lied to us. We trust her with our lives!"

Kara glanced up at Dav.

"It's true, little one," he told her. "She's risked her life more than once to save us from certain death. I believe her."

Drawn by Kara's outburst, a familiar face peered around the doorframe of the AIVAS room… Aramina, one of Master Fandarel's journeywomen.

His protégé, she was a top-notch architectural engineer. When she had heard about the teaching hospital, she immediately volunteered, working alongside her mentor on the overall design and construction of the new building.

Aramina was about to say something when she finally took in the appearances of my two friends, her hands snapping up to cover her mouth. With a smile and an almost imperceptible nod, I gave Aramina a wink and she slowly withdrew; no doubt heading back to let the rest of the facility know about the new arrivals! I'd worry about that later. At the moment, I had a much bigger concern to deal with.

"I did warn you about coming here, Kara," I quietly said, taking her hand in mine.

She tried to pull free, but I didn't let go.

"My friends trust me, Kara," I said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "And I think you trust them, too."

"I…"

"From the moment Tarnaa and I rescued you and your da from that feline," I said, my eyes never leaving hers, "haven't I been honest with you?"

"You…"

"I have asked you about your life in the Eastern Islands," I continued, my own tears starting to fall. "Though I did not live through it, I felt your anguish, shared your pain."

Kara turned away, but she did not try to pull free of my grip on her hand.

"Dana, what…" but I raised a hand asking Dav to wait.

"I am your friend, Kara," I spoke, slowly turning her face so that she would look at me. "I have stood by you, answered all your questions."

Tears began to form rivulets down Kara's crestfallen face.

"The truth can sometimes be wonderful," I went on, my own tears falling. "Sometimes not. It can even be very painful when it is finally realized."

"Dana, I…"

"I know you want to believe what your elders have been telling you, Kara," I wept, squeezing her hands in sympathy. "But you chose to come to Landing in search of the truth. Now it will take every ounce of courage you can muster … to accept what you have found."

For several painfully long seconds, Kara's eyes searched mine. Then, she broke into sobs, hugging me tightly. I returned the embrace, my tears mingling with her own.

"Skipper, what's going on?" Dav asked, clearly concerned.

"To understand that," I wept, glancing up at my two Federation friends, "you have to understand what happened when the colonists first arrived here."

"Kara, AIVAS can help my friends understand," I addressed her, lifting her chin so she'd look at me.

"How?" she sniffled, wiping away some of her tears.

"AIVAS contains visual recordings of the initial colonists' landing," I explained, taking her hands in mine. "It also has recordings of the first Threadfall and what happened to the colonists."

Kara glanced over at AIVAS. "I'm afraid!"

"What troubles you, little sister?" Key asked, kneeling beside her.

Kara glanced from my Federation friend to me, her expression one of confusion.

"The Kendite people very seldom address anyone not of their race as though they were family," I explained, smiling at him. "It is quite a compliment when they do."

"Only one other in recent memory has been so honored," Key told Kara, glancing briefly up at me. "And by our clan's matriarch, no less!"

"You?!" Kara gasped, staring at me.

"Yes," Key chuckled, giving Kara's shoulder a gentle squeeze, "though not as she currently appears."

"We were on Pun Ch'lar for the Matriarch's wedding," Dav explained, coming up beside Key, "as representatives of the Federation."

"Dana spotted someone approaching the marriage party," Key added, his expression grim, "someone carrying a ceremonial sword. The stranger tried to attack the Matriarch, but Dana intervened, disarming the attacker and saving the life of the Matriarch. To our people's eternal shame, when the attacker was unmasked, we discovered he was a fellow Kendite."

"What happened to him?" Kara asked, gently laying her hand on Key's arm.

"We never did find out the reason for the attack," Key sighed, smiling as he returned Kara's touch. "He threw himself off the edge of the cliff we were all standing on. It was over a quarter kulron… oh, sorry…"

"In human terms, he fell over 1000 feet to the canyon floor below," I responded. "There was very little of him left intact after the impact."

"Oh." Kara looked a little green at this point.

"To honor Dana's efforts protecting the Matriarch's life," Key said, "she was made an honorary Kendite and adopted into my own clan's family."

"Up until that moment, little friend," Dav told her, "the Kendite people had been very distrustful of humans… and the Federation in general. Dana earned their trust and respect and helped ease Kendite relations with the Federation."

While that explanation was going on, more curious faces appeared in the doorway, unseen by Kara or my Federation friends. With a brief finger to my lips urging silence and a quick jerk of my head in the direction of the corridor, the doorway cleared.

"Seems there's a lot about you that I still don't know," Kara sighed, a wry grin on her face. "Dana, I'm so sorry."

"No reason for you to be sorry… little sister," I told her, wrapping Kara in a warm embrace. "You were only following your beliefs, beliefs brought about by what your elders had taught you."

"Be proud, Kara," I said, laying my hands on her shoulders. "Few have the courage to seek the truth. Fewer still find the strength to accept what they discover."

"Sounds like someone else we know, eh, Skipper?" Dav teased, slapping me on the back.

"Kara knows firsthand what Threadfall is like," I said, glancing from her to my two Federation friends. "Her mother perished during a Fall when she was only seven. I've seen the colonists' first Threadfall encounter records. And I've seen the real thing in action. I warn you. It's not for the faint of heart."

"With all the things we've seen on first contactor missions," Dav scoffed, chuckling as he shrugged his shoulders, "how bad could it be?"

A few minutes later, outside the AIVAS building, I was comforting my two friends as they puked out their recently eaten meals. In their rush to get clear of the building before making a mess, my Star Service friends never saw the hallway of startled Pernese citizens dart back into the adjacent rooms.

"Well, I did warn you," I sheepishly remarked as a few of the goggle-eyed visitors to the AIVAS complex emerged, handing each of my Star Service friends a glass of water.

Dav didn't utter a sound as he sipped on his water, but I couldn't recall a time when I'd seen him so pale or frightened.

"That…" Key whispered, his paws trembling as he held his glass to his lips, "that is what you… dragonriders… fight?!"

"Me, no," I assured my friend. "At least, not directly. The queen riders fly below the other dragons, finishing off any Thread that gets through the other dragons."

"How often do you… have to do that?" Dav managed to gasp.

"Once the Red Star begins a Pass," I explained, glancing skyward, "dragons are airborne nearly every day until the Pass is over."

"Every day?!" my two friends exclaimed as one.

"Yes, and the Pass lasts for fifty years."

"By the sacred waters!" Dav hissed, bug-eyed beyond belief.

"By the Fire Falls of Firlea!" Key gasped, his own eyes matching Dav's.

"Now I think you begin to understand why the Dragonriders of Pern have been so keen to put an end to Threadfall once and for all," I said, giving my two Federation friends each a pat on the shoulder.

"How could the survey team have deemed this place suitable for colonization with that?!" Dav roared, gesturing back into the AIVAS building; gasping when he saw the crowd of Pernese citizens that had gathered to witness the goings on.

"Because they didn't know about Thread," I replied. "The Red Star's passes are cyclical. Every 100 years, it would drag spores into Pern's orbit, causing Threadfall for a period of fifty of those years. But due to perturbations brought about by the other planetary bodies in this star system, Pern sometimes experiences what the locals call a long interval, a time when Thread doesn't intersect Pern's orbit."

"With AIVAS' help," I went on, smiling at the stunned looks on my friends' faces, "I just recently completed a retrograde plotting of the Red Star's passes. The survey team came here during another long interval. There were no spores raining down on the planet, so there was no reason not to recommend this world for colonization."

"Many factors conspired against the Ancients, Kara," I said to my young friend. "They came to this world not to build a technological one but a simple one: farming, mining, fishing, and so on… skills that were necessary for the colonists' survival but did not require the sophisticated technology found in the Federation. Because of that, when Thread first began to fall, they had to develop a natural organic means of defense."

"The dragons," she whispered.

"Yes."

"Why did they leave this place then?" Key asked, his paws having finally quit shaking.

"Because of that," one of the AIVAS visitors replied, pointing to the volcanic craters a short distance away. "Not long after the first Threadfall began, Mount Garben erupted, burying this plateau in lava and ash. The colonists fled to the northern continent, seeking shelter in the abundant bedrock and caves found there. It wasn't long after that move north that the first dragonriders appeared."

"As time passed and the colonists and their descendants struggled to survive," I went on, giving Dav's trembling shoulder a gentle squeeze, "they gradually lost the knowledge of the technology that had brought their ancestors to this world. They never returned to Landing because no one thought anything here would survive the eruption."

"Then what about all this?" Key wondered, gesturing about.

"Early in this current pass, the dragonriders accidentally rediscovered this place," another of the AIVAS visitors replied. "No one currently living knew anything about the Ancients' technology. They had to relearn everything… and that's where AIVAS came in."

Aramina stepped forward, bravely picking up the narrative.

"Once they realized what AIVAS represented," she explained, giving Tarnaa a gentle pat on the neck while I scratched Goldie's eye ridge, "the dragonriders knew they finally had a chance to put an end to Threadfall."

"It didn't take them long to find out about the matter-antimatter power cores on the three colony ships," Jayge, Aramina's husband spoke up. "And, with AIVAS' help, they figured out how to use their explosive power to alter the Red Star's orbit."

"The antimatter blast residue our deep space sensors detected!" Dav exclaimed.

"Yes," I replied, smiling. "Placed at strategic intervals, the dragonriders were able to successfully nudge the Red Star out of its original orbital path. According to the latest sensor readings from the Yokohama, the Red Star is on a slow inward spiral that will eventually send it plummeting into Pern's sun."

"How much longer until this current… pass ends?" Key wondered.

"Another thirty years… Turns in the local dialect," I replied. "Give or take a little."

"I get it!" Kara whispered, her eyes lighting up.

"Get what, little sister?" Key asked.

"Thread!" she gasped. "The Red Star, you said it drags this stuff along with it?"

"That's right," I answered. "The spores are part of the debris field called the Oort Cloud at the outer edge of this star system. During its orbit, the Red Star would pass through that debris, dragging the spores along with it."

"It must drag an awful lot of that stuff behind it if a Pass lasts for fifty Turns."

"Shards and shells, you got that right!" yet another AIVAS visitor exclaimed, others in the growing crowd murmuring in agreement.

"So by nudging the Red Star, you change where it goes…" Kara concluded, her eyes lighting up with hard earned recognition, "and keep it from ever going through that debris again!"

"Exactly!" I cheered, giving my Eastern Islands friend a hug. "Well done!"

"But… what will happen to the Dragonriders once this Pass is over?" she nervously inquired.

"The answers to that are as numerous and varied as the personalities of the dragonriders!" I replied, giving Kara's shoulder a thump. "For those of us at Robinton Cove, the dragonriders will continue, utilizing our lifemates' unique ability to teleport in order to provide near instantaneous medical assistance to anyone on the planet."

"And the others?"

For someone who mere moments before had blamed dragonriders for the horror of Threadfall, the pained look of genuine concern on Kara's face brought tears to my eyes.

"There will be time enough to ask them what they've got in mind," I said, adding a hug for reassurance. As we watched the visitors to Landing and the AIVAS complex slowly gather around my Star Service friends, a few even working up the courage to introduce themselves to Dav and Key, I told Kara, "For now, I think it's time we let the rest of Pern know we have… visitors!"


	34. Chapter 34 - Key's Command Performance

Chapter 34

Key's Command Performance

The first order of business, then, was getting my friends back to their shuttle. Dav and Key were far more relaxed on the return trip, though I nearly lost an eardrum to Dav's howl of excitement when we popped out of _between_ back over Misty Hold!

Once back at their landing site, I secured the Quester, borrowed one of my friends' portable transponder beacons, then Kara and I boarded Tarnaa and winged back to Fort Hold and the Harper Hall!

The place was as busy with activity as ever. It took a moment for the courtyard to clear before Tarnaa could bring us to ground. Once we dismounted, I sent her and Goldie to sun themselves on Fort's fire heights while Kara and I sought out the Masterharpers.

"With all that's going on at the Cove," Sebell remarked, rising to give me a hug as Kara and I entered his study, "what brings you back to the Hall?"

"You remember my young friend?" I asked, giving Kara a hug.

"Of course," Sebell replied, bowing deeply. "You are well, child?"

"Yes, Masterharper," she answered, returning the bow. "Thank you. I owe Dana a great debt for her patience… and friendship."

"Indeed," Sebell remarked, his eyes lighting up. "In what way?"

"'Loose the flame and sear the grasses,'" I sang, glancing at Kara.

"'Till the dawning Red Star passes,'" Kara finished, smiling at me.

Then, lowering her eyes as she turned to Sebell, she added, "I finally understand now that it is the Red Star… not the dragons… that bring Thread. I would like to beg the forgiveness of everyone in this Hall for my terrible behavior before."

"There is nothing to apologize for," Menolly injected, entering from a side door, her fair of fire lizards swirling into the room. "Dana explained to us what was going on."

Giving Kara a gentle hug, Menolly added, "That you found the courage to accept the truth says a great deal about you, young lady."

"I had a good friend behind me," Kara replied, smiling up at me.

"Still, I get the feeling this is more than a mere social call," Sebell remarked, a keen look in his eyes.

"Ever the observant one, eh, Masterharper?" I chuckled, setting the transponder on his desk. "I should warn you. This is going to cause quite a stir in the Hall!"

"How?" Menolly wondered as she examined the strange device.

On cue, two rather loud booms reverberated through the open windows, scattering Menolly's fire lizards and sending them winging out the window!

"What was that?!" Sebell exclaimed, hurrying to see what had caused it.

"A sonic boom!" I chuckled, joining him at the window.

"A what?!" both harpers spluttered.

"Sonic boom, typically created when objects move through the air at speeds faster than the speed of sound," I casually explained, all the while trying to hide the grin on my face.

"But there's nothing on Pern that can move that fast!" Menolly argued, peering out a second window.

"There is now," I chuckled.

 _Tarnaa, my heart_ , I quietly sent to my lifemate. _Would you mind guiding our new friends to the courtyard?_

"Where's she going?" Sebell wondered, watching as Tarnaa took wing from the Fort's fire heights.

As we all watched my dragon climb higher into the sky, we heard Menolly exclaim, "What's that?!"

She was pointing at a rapidly approaching black dot. As we all watched, Tarnaa seemed to pull alongside the object and the two turned toward the Hall. In moments, my lifemate veered off to the side, back to the fire heights.

Glancing over at my two Harper friends, I couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped me as they stared in awe at the Federation shuttle that gracefully touched down in the courtyard below.

"Time for you to meet some old friends of mine," I told them, giggling as I ran from the room.

The Hall courtyard was quickly filling with the curious and more peering out the windows of the Hall and from those on the face of Fort Hold as I stopped near the shuttle's hatch. Sebell and Menolly skidded to a halt a short distance away. Then, the shuttle's hatch hissed open and two beings emerged, accompanied by many gasps of surprise and a few screams of terror!

"I see you didn't have any trouble finding your way here," I spoke aloud, giving my two Federation friends a welcome shake of the hand.

"Your dragon friend was a big help, Dana," Dav replied, glancing about.

"By the Egg of Faranth," Menolly gasped, first to find her voice, "they know who you are?!"

"Who I used to be, Masterharper," I chuckled, wrapping my arms around the waists of my two friends. "Allow me to present my companions from the Federation Star Service… Davar of Aquilos 2… and Keymon De'Resarth of the Peoples' Heart, Pun Ch'Lar."

The profound silence that followed was eloquent, matched only by the bugged out eyes on everyone's faces!

"Keymon?!" Menolly finally managed to sputter, the first to find her voice as she slowly approached. "The one who…"

"Taught me the song, yes," I affirmed, giving Key's waist a hug.

If surprise was a wave, the gasps that rippled back through the crowd would've been a visible… and audible representation!

"Dana?" Key nervously spoke, glancing about at all the bug-eyed faces.

"I'm with Key on this one, Skipper," Dav added, glancing nervously about. "What's going on? It's just a song!"

"Anywhere else in the universe, Dav, and I would've agreed," I chuckled, releasing my friends as I stepped forward before turning around. "But on this world, it seems to possess a most amazing power, one that you have to hear to believe!"

"Power?" Key whispered, clearly not expecting this. "I don't understand."

"You will, my friend," I assured him, patting his arm. "I guarantee it!"

Turning to the Masterharpers, "Would you like me to contact the Weyrleaders? I'm sure they'd be delighted to meet my friends."

"Ye… Yes," Sebell finally managed to gasp, his shock and awe having finally abated. "Yes, if you'd be so kind."

"Silvina!" I exclaimed, running to give the Harper headwoman a warm hug. "Glad you could tear yourself away from your many duties. I'd like you to meet my Federation friends!"

Taking the Harper headwoman by the hand, I led her over to where everyone had gathered beside the shuttle.

"Dav, Key, allow me to present Silvina," I introduced her, "the Harper Hall headwoman. Without her diligence and guidance, many of the daily duties and chores here at the Harper Hall would never get accomplished."

"A pleasure, Citizen," Dav responded, bowing deeply.

"We are honored, Citizen," Key added, nodding respectfully.

"Dana has spoken of you so often," Silvina responded, slowly coming forward. "While she was here recovering from the injuries sustained during her crash, there were many times I caught her mumbling your names even when she was unconscious. Now that I see the three of you together, I can tell there is a very strong bond of friendship between you!"

"And did Dana also tell you that she's Keymon's adopted sister?" Kara inquired, grinning from ear to ear.

"Sister?!" Sebell and Menolly gasped, eyes popping, jaws dropping.

"Well, technically, I was his adopted… brother," I sheepishly admitted, "before my… transformation."

"Well, now!" Sebell chuckled, recovering his composure. "That is a story I can't wait to hear!"

Like a well-oiled machine, activities around the Harper Hall were soon humming at a frenetic pace! Silvina set the kitchen staff preparing one of the finest feasts the hall would ever see! Master Shonagar worked feverishly to whip his 'whelps' into acceptable shape for the evening's vocal presentation. Domick and his journeymen could be heard practicing their recitals over and over again! And, as I had promised to do, I bespoke the dragons of each and every Weyr, inviting them to the celebration honoring the arrival of my friends from the Federation.

As the time for the evening meal fast approached, I entertained the Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen out in the Hall courtyard, doing my best to introduce to them two of the dearest people to me in the entire universe.

"So, it was the explosions of the colony ships power cells that brought you here," F'lar concluded as I finished recounting the Dragonriders efforts to bring an end to Threadfall.

"Indeed," Dav responded. "As there were no records of civilizations capable of producing anti-matter reactors in this sector of space, we were sent to investigate."

"Your ancestors would be proud of what you've accomplished, Citizens," Key added, glancing about at the gathered crowd. "To relearn all of that advanced technology in such a short time and apply it to your solution to the menace of Thread is truly remarkable."

Just then, I heard a familiar beep coming from my two friends. Smiling conspiratorially between themselves, Dav pulled out his commlink headset and passed it to me.

Quickly donning the headset, I pressed the activation button and said into the mike, "Wolfhound, this is Angel Zero One, go ahead."

"Who is this?" the person on the other end demanded.

Key was busy putting his own commlink on, nodding for me to continue.

"Star Service P.I.C. one alpha niner two bravo zulu," I radioed back, grinning from ear to ear. "My name is Dana Sterling, former Federation first contact team leader."

A few seconds passed as shipboard records were searched, then… "That ID belongs to a male John Costello who quit the service nearly four years ago. I say again, who are you?"

"Captain Morgan, this is Keymon," my friend finally radioed.

"Key, what the hell is going on down there?" the Wolfhound's captain demanded.

"Something quite extraordinary, sir," Key radioed back.

"Who the hell is that on the other commlink?"

"Our former team leader, sir," Key confirmed. "He has undergone a rather… remarkable transformation into a human female."

"Say again, Key. Your former boss is now a girl?!"

"Affirmative, sir," Key replied, a broad grin on his face. "We found her at the crash site of her scout vessel, the Quester. She speaks fluent Kenditese and knows certain facts about the Kendite Matriarch that only our old teammate was aware of."

There was a profound pause before I heard, "Angel Zero One."

"Zero One, go," I responded.

"Why did you quit the Star Service?"

"Because of my obsession with an ancient message rocket Dav, Key, and I discovered on one of our pre-first-contact sector scans," I replied, grinning at my friends. "It was causing such a distraction among the other first contact teams that Commander Zithrire gave me an ultimatum… give up the rocket or give up the Service."

Another long pause.

"Angel Zero One."

"Sir?"

"Bioscanners are showing an extensive human population scattered about the planet."

"That's correct, sir."

"Our records contain no reference to any human colony out in this sector."

"Yes, sir, I'm aware of that."

"Then where the hell are we?"

"What's your 20, Captain?"

"Geosynch near the three colony ships in orbit."

"Can you scan the settlement near the volcanos directly below your position?"

"Yes," Captain Morgan acknowledged. "We noted the smaller human population at that location and what appears to be three shuttles nearby."

"That is the original colonists' landing site, Captain," I informed him. "The AIVAS unit is still active there."

Another profound pause. I grinned as I imagined the Wolfhound's captain falling out of his seat in surprise!

"You should be able to contact the AIVAS unit directly and get answers to your questions, Captain."

One final profound moment of silence.

"Angel Zero One…"

"Go ahead, Wolfhound."

"The AIVAS indicates we are not authorized to access the system."

Key broke into a fit of giggles; Dav joining him after the message was relayed.

"Wolfhound, can you patch me through to AIVAS?"

"Standby, Zero One." A few seconds later, "Go ahead."

"AIVAS, this is Masterhealer Dana. Do you copy?"

"Affirmative, Masterhealer."

"You may answer the Wolfhound's queries if you wish."

"Understood."

"Wolfhound, Angel Zero One."

"Go ahead, Zero One."

"You should now be able to access AIVAS records, Captain."

"My thanks, Zero One. Now would you mind telling me where the hell we are?"

"Other than a long way from home, sir?" I chuckled, Dav and Key joining me. "You have stumbled upon a long-forgotten piece of Terran history, Captain Morgan. Over 2000 years ago, 6000 colonists set off from Earth on a fifteen-year one-way journey to a new home and way of life."

Smiling about at all my friends at the Harper Hall, I added, "To the captain and crew of the Federation vessel Wolfhound, allow me to be the first to officially welcome you to Pern!"

A short time later, a second Federation shuttle landed just outside the Harper Hall. Captain Morgan himself disembarked.

"So, you're Dana Sterling," he chuckled as we shook hands. "Dav and Key have always spoken highly of you. Glad to finally make your acquaintance!"

"A pleasure, Captain," I replied, returning the handshake.

"Your help with that AIVAS unit was appreciated," Captain Morgan remarked, adding a nod of thanks. "Hard to believe the damn thing is still functional!"

"It proved quite a boon to the Dragonriders, sir."

"Dragonriders?"

I pointed up to Fort's fire heights. Captain Morgan gasped, backing up a step at what he saw.

"Now that that's out of the way," I chuckled, glancing about, "allow me to make the introductions."

It took a while to introduce Captain Morgan, Dav, and Key to all the dignitaries who had arrived. That accomplished, we retired into the great hall to dine.

"Will you be staying long, Captain?" Sebell asked as we were sampling some fine Benden wine after the meal.

"Unfortunately, no," Captain Morgan confessed, his voice full of regret. "We'll need to leave here in less than two weeks if we expect to get back home before our fuel and supplies are exhausted."

"I see," Sebell sighed, his eyes betraying his disappointment.

"We will, of course, be doing a full study of this planet," Dav added, glancing about the table, "and documenting the continued survival of the colonists' descendants."

"And the anti-matter explosions our sensors first picked up?" Captain Morgan asked. "Any clues to that?"

"Yes, Captain," I responded. "If you scan the orbiting colony ships, you'll find all three are missing their anti-matter power cores."

"Missing?!" Captain Morgan spluttered. "How? Why?"

F'lar of Benden Weyr picked up the story at that point. It took a while to explain about Thread… what it was, where it came from, and what it could do to anything organic.

Captain Morgan turned noticeably paler after hearing Kara's heart-rending story.

"So, with AIVAS' help," F'lar finished up, "we were able to convert the power cores of the three colony ships into explosives that we could use to nudge the Red Star out of its orbit."

"Current sensor readings from the Yokohama indicate the Red Star is on a slow inward spiral," I reported. "In 500 years, it will plunge into Rukbat and be incinerated."

"More importantly," Sebell spoke up, "the Red Star will no longer pass through this star system's Oort Cloud, bringing the deadly Thread spores with it."

"And, as a final measure," Master Oldive chimed in, "with AIVAS' help, we were also able to successfully capture live Thread spores and bioengineer spore killers from them."

"They've been seeded into the Red Star's debris trail," I informed the Wolfhound's captain. "With luck, by the end of this Pass, they will have reached the Oort Cloud and will put a final end to the menace of Thread!"

For several long seconds, Captain Morgan just shook his head.

"Remarkable," he whispered, staring about him. "Truly remarkable!"

"And now, Captain," I spoke as everyone began heading back out to the courtyard, "if you'll be so kind as to follow us outside, we have another treat in store for you!"

"What sort of treat?" he wondered as he fell in step behind me.

"You'll see!" I cryptically remarked, giving Key a wink.

A raised platform had been erected to one side of the courtyard. On it, Master Domick had assembled a sizeable orchestra. On risers across the back of the platform, Master Brudegan had arranged a goodly number of singers, apprentices and journeymen whom I was certain had been thoroughly prepared for this moment by Master Shonagar. The rest of the space in the courtyard and just beyond the walls was packed to bursting with every inhabitant of Fort Hold, the Harper Hall, and the various dignitary groups from all over Pern who had come to greet our Federation visitors.

"Skipper, what's going on?" Dav asked, glancing nervously about.

"You'll see," I said, grinning as I climbed up the platform stairs.

Stepping to the front of the stage, I raised my hands, getting the crowd to quiet down.

"My dear friends and visitors from around Pern," I began, sweeping the crowd with my gaze, "thank you all for coming on such short notice."

"When Admiral Paul Benden, Governor Emily Boll, Kitty Ping, and the other 6000 colonists first set out for Pern," I spoke, "they did so knowing that they would have to survive on their own without any outside help. Two thousand Turns later, their descendants have not only survived but continue to thrive! A truly remarkable achievement we can all be proud of!"

That got a loud round of cheers and applause from the crowd.

"Like those colonists of old," I went on, "when I set out to find Pern, I left everything and everyone I knew behind… including my two dearest friends… Davar of Aquilos 2… and Keymon De'Resarth of the People's Heart, the world of Pun Ch'lar."

Smiling shyly, my two friends turned and waved to the applauding crowd.

"Needless to say, when they unexpectedly showed up here on Pern," I said, smiling down at my Federation friends, "I was beside myself with joy at being reunited with them."

"But now, I have a favor to ask of my Kendite brother," I spoke as I gestured for Key to join me on stage. "I would like his help in singing a singularly wondrous song that he shared with me so many Turns ago, a song that I have, in turn, shared with all of you on many occasions."

"A beautiful song that tells the story of Key's homeworld, Pun Ch'lar," I continued as my Kendite brother slowly joined me on stage, "and the people who live there."

"It is a song that has captured the hearts and minds of every citizen of Pern," I explained, touching Key's arm. "As a result, it was named in your honor. So, my brother, would you do me the great pleasure and join me as we sing 'Keymon's Song' together?"

For several seconds, the entire courtyard was silent. Then…

"I would be honored to, little sister," Key replied, bowing deeply to me.

The courtyard exploded with cheers and applause.

Turning to the orchestra, I said, "Master Domick, if you would be so kind…"

The moment they began to play, Key's eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his furry feline face. Then, at the appropriate point, we both opened our mouths and began to sing!

Key and I did the first verse, just the two of us singing. On the second verse, the choir softly joined in, earning at first a startled glance then a broader grin from Key!

On the third verse, Key faltered briefly as the fire lizards joined their voices to ours, triggering that dreamlike state the song seemed to inspire. It was difficult for me to continue singing around the grin that wanted to split my face wide open!

On the fourth verse, Key froze, his mouth hanging open as the dragons perched on the fire heights and around the courtyard joined their voices to the rest of us, heightening the already intense dreamlike state. Grinning as I patted my friend on the back, I kept on singing.

When the final chords of the last verse drifted off into silence, all my Federation friends and the Wolfhound's captain could do was stare; their eyes as big as moons, their jaws nearly touching the ground!

"Key?" I quietly spoke, giving my friend a gentle shake. "You okay?"

At first, he didn't respond. But then…

"By the Fire Falls of Firlea!" he managed to gasp, clearly in shock.

Abruptly shaking himself, he turned to me.

"So, do you believe me now?" I chuckled.

"Little sister… that… I…"

The audience chose that moment to express its opinion… bursting into thunderous cheers and applause!

Key looked totally out of his league as I gently took his hand.

"Naza e bela, zu ch'har." Take a bow, my brother.

Hearing the words of his native language, Key finally managed to gather his wits, and, together, we turned and bowed to the boisterous and appreciative crowd!


	35. Chapter 35 - Suspicions

Chapter 35

Suspicions

Cheers and applause continued to follow us as Key and I climbed down from the stage.

"By the Sacred Waters!" Dav gasped, still a bit in shock. "How did… what was… Holy shit!"

"Glad you liked it!" I chuckled, giving my Aquilan friend a hug.

"Dana, that was… that was…" Key stammered, still in awe of the song's power.

"I did try to warn you, don't forget!" I teased him, giving him a warm hug.

"Captain Morgan?" No response. "Captain Morgan?" Still no answer.

He just stood there, slowly glancing about at all the fire lizards and dragons that abounded.

"Bat dung!" he finally gasped, shaking himself before turning to face me. "What the hell was that?!"

"Just the power of song," I laughed, clapping him on the back, "augmented by the telepathic power and singing ability of our winged friends, Captain!"

"Oddly enough," Sebell remarked, coming up beside me, "Dana here seems to be the only one who can trigger the dreamlike state while singing the song."

"The only one?!" Dav and Key both exclaimed, staring at me.

"Others have tried," Menolly shrugged, gesturing around her, "without success."

"Most curious," Key remarked, smiling and nodding at me. "It might be due to your nascent psionics abilities, little sister."

"You could be right, Key," Dav chimed in, his brow furrowed with thought. "I seem to recall the Academy instructors mentioning something about that."

"In any case," I chuckled, "I'm pleased you enjoyed it! Now, how about we head back inside for some dessert…"

"And a little of that wine!" Captain Morgan sighed, shaking his head. "I'll need a little… fortification… after that!"

Laughing together, those who could stay after the dinner headed back into the Harper Hall for a little post performance repast.

As we reentered the dining hall, I noticed Master Oldive off to one side, speaking with another familiar face.

"How's your patient doing, Master Oldive?" I inquired as I approached.

"Nearly healed," Oldive chuckled, turning to me, "but taciturn as a barnacle, this one."

"How are you feeling, Da?" Kara asked, coming up beside me.

Setting his fork down with a solid 'Thunk!', Kara's Da snorted and turned away.

"Hmm, I see what you mean," I whispered, glancing over at Kara.

"Da, what's wrong?"

No response.

"Da?"

Kara's father crossed his arms, adding another snort.

"I'm your daughter!" Kara wept, taking a step closer. "Da, speak to me!"

"Stay away from me, girl!" he hissed, eyes narrowed to slits as he rounded on his child. "You are no daughter of mine!"

"Da!" Kara sniffled, stepping back. "Why?"

"You turned your back on your own people!" he roared, rising to his feet. "Renounced the ways of the Exiles! Dishonored your own father! Leave my sight! I will not lay my eyes on you again!"

Silence fell across the hall, everyone turning to stare at what was transpiring. It was Kara, however, who finally broke the silence.

"No, Da, it was you who dishonored me."

"What's that?" the man spluttered, taken aback by the sudden fury on Kara's face.

"You grew up in a Hold!" she screamed at him. "You were taught the Teaching Ballads! You knew the truth about Thread! But you lied to me! Deceived me! So did everyone in the village!"

I stepped up beside Kara, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Loose the flame and sear the grasses…" I sang, smiling at her.

"… till the dawning Red Star passes!" Kara finished singing. "With the help of my friends, Da, I now know the truth. You can never take that away from me."

"Damn your hide!" Kara's Da hissed, his anger-filled gaze fixed squarely on me. "I don't know how you escaped, bitch, but this is far from over. We will have our revenge."

Dav and Key were instantly at my side, but, judging by their expressions, they were anything but amused.

"Dana,…" Key hissed, the fur on his neck flaring slightly.

"Not long ago, I unexpectedly inherited the lands that make up what we now call Robinton Cove," I explained, my eyes never leaving Kara's Da. "While we were busy celebrating the start of construction of the teaching hospital there, I was secretly drugged and kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?!" Dav growled, hand clasping the butt of his blaster.

"Yes," I admitted, "but bound and blindfolded, I was unable to determine my precise location or let anyone know where I was."

"Then how did you get away?" Key wondered, his own hand resting on his blaster.

"That will have to wait for another time," I replied, slowly removing my hand from my own weapon. "Lord Groghe!"

"Masterhealer?" he responded, coming up beside me.

"Do you have someplace secure where Kara's Da may be held until he can be tried for his crimes?"

"What crimes?" Kara's Da scoffed, grinning derisively. "You can't prove a thing!"

"On the contrary," I argued, crossing my arms. "Heard and witnessed by those close enough to hear, you just stated that you don't know how I escaped. That alone implies knowledge on your part that I had been kidnapped and was being held against my will."

Kara's Da's face got noticeably redder.

"Logically, that also implies you were either one of the perpetrators of the crime," I went on, Goldie softly hissing at the man, "or you were aiding and abetting those who did."  
"Dana!" Kara gasped, grasping my arm.

"Hold your tongue, girl!" Kara's Da hissed, his manner clearly threatening.

"I won't," she growled, glaring back at him. "You've been lying to me my whole life, blaming the dragons for bringing the Thread. You grew up in a hold! You told me yourself! You should've known the Teaching Ballads, including the one about the Red Star!"

"One more word, girl, and I'll…"

"You will do nothing to my little sister," Key hissed, sinking his claws into the man's shirt and lifting him clear off the floor.

"Go on, Kara," Dav urged, drawing his weapon. "What were you about to say?"

"Late one night, while everyone else thought I was asleep," Kara explained, fury sparking in her eyes, "I overheard several of the elders in my village arguing."

"About what, child?" Groghe wondered, frowning.

"They were furious about some woman escaping!" Kara hissed, glaring through slitted eyes at her Da. "You were among them and your voice was the loudest!"

"Dav, put your weapon away," I quietly urged, resting my hand on his upraised arm.

Slowly, he did, but by the flare of his gill slits, my Aquilan friend was only slightly less angry.

"Put him down, Key," I calmly spoke, coming up beside him. "I think we've heard enough."

It took several painfully long minutes, a threatening growl emanating from my Kendite friend's throat, but Key finally set Kara's Da back on the floor where he was instantly taken into custody by Lord Groghe's security team.

"You'll see, all of you!" Kara's Da shouted at the top of his lungs as he was led away. "We will have our revenge!"

The great hall stood silent for nearly five minutes. Given the tableau that had just taken place, it was hardly surprising.

"Kara, I'm so sorry," I finally managed to say, wrapping her up in a tender embrace.

"I know," she replied, smiling up at me.

"Sterling, what the hell's going on?" Capt. Morgan demanded.

"Sadly, Captain, we haven't figured that out yet," I sighed, turning to face him. "And there may not be much you can do."

"Are you kidding, Skipper?" Dav exclaimed, gesturing to the night sky. "The Wolfhound…"

"The non-interference directive," I replied.

"But, Dana,…" Key whispered.

"Once a Federation colony has existed for 1000 years," I explained, "by law, it becomes an independent entity, no longer bound to the Federation."

"Is that true?" Sebell asked, disbelief writ upon his face.

"She's right," Capt. Morgan sighed, shaking his head. "Our hands are tied."

"As an independent world," I went on, glancing from Sebell to Capt. Morgan, "we can, however, request assistance from the Wolfhound."

"I recommend we call an emergency conclave of the Lords Holder, Lord Groghe," I spoke, turning to him. "Given Kara's Da's vehemence, I fear whatever the Exiles are planning is broad in scope and may well place all of Pern in jeopardy."

"Agreed," Groghe grunted, Merga adding her own chirp for emphasis.

"I recommend the Weyrleaders be part of that conclave," I went on, turning to F'lar and Lessa.

"So that we can coordinate our efforts," F'lar concluded, nodding as he did. "I agree."

"Master Sebell, I think it would be prudent to have harpers at the meeting, as well," I went on, turning to my two Harper friends.

"To report on the proceedings," Menolly concluded, her fair warbling with excitement, "and to mediate any disagreements."

"Yes."

"We'd better get back to the Wolfhound, Captain," Dav suggested.

"I agree," Keymon added as he handed me his commlink. "We can better assist the Pernese from orbit."

"Where our sensors will do the most good," Captain Morgan nodded. Grinning at me, he added, "The Star Service made a big mistake letting you go, Sterling! Good luck!"

With that, Captain Morgan, Dav, and Key returned to their vessel.

Unfortunately, saying an emergency meeting was necessary and actually setting it up proved to be two different things. There was Threadfall to take into consideration as well as the logistics of where and when to meet! Heaped on top of that was my new status as Craftmaster of Surgery plus the legal wrangle regarding my new status as Lord Holder of Robinton Cove.

Knowing that there were others more experienced in these matters, I chose to leave the arrangements in their hands and headed off to Landing to meet with Master Fandarel to work on his plans for the teaching hospital.

Late one afternoon while Fandarel and I were discussing some of the finer details of the hospital's construction, we received an unexpected visitor.

"Dana?"

"Oh! Hi, Kara!" I responded, looking up from the table Fandarel and I were working at. "What's up?"

"I'm not sure," she responded as she stepped up to the table. "I found this in one of the Ancients' buildings."

She set a blocky object on the table.

"Hmm, an older model walkie-talkie," I humphed, giving it the once over. "Where'd you find it?"

"In one of the … what's the word…" she struggled to recall. "Quonset huts! I was out walking and heard voices coming from one of them. But when I looked inside, no one was there."

"You found this inside the building?" Fandarel wondered, examining the device.

Kara nodded.

"Wait a sec!" I suddenly exclaimed, taking the walkie-talkie from the burly smith. "This thing's switched on!"

"Impossible," Fandarel argued. "Those objects are centuries old. Even for the Ancients, there's no way it could retain power that long!"

"Then, someone's recharged it… and recently," I disagreed, pointing to the glowing power indicator light. "Kara, do you happen to recall what you overheard?"

"Not really," she muttered, crestfallen. "Something about orbits and access codes."

Chills shot up and down my spine, my face turning pale.

"Dana, what is it?" Fandarel solicited, giving my trembling hand a squeeze.

"Only a suspicion, my burly friend," I tried to assure him, patting his hand. "If true, though, it bodes serious ill for the people of Pern!"

While Fandarel got back to work on the hospital, I met briefly with Piemur and quietly discussed my suspicions.

"Won't be easy setting anything up here," the journeyman harper muttered, Farli trilling sweetly as she headstroked his cheek.

"Then I'll have Lytol join you here," I responded, giving Piemur's shoulder a thump. "I'll also have N'ton send J'ritt here to back the two of you up."

"That would be appreciated, Dana," Piemur sighed, grinning with relief.

A quick mental call to Lioth and the deed was done. Lytol and J'ritt arrived moments later astride Pelenth. Confident that Piemur could explain the situation to the two new arrivals, Goldie and I mounted Tarnaa and the three of us made a beeline for Robinton Cove.

D'ram was clearly troubled once I had explained my suspicions to him.

"A lot of folks in and out of here," he muttered, shaking his head.

"I'll see if Lord Groghe can send a few of his security people to back you up," I responded, giving the former dragonrider a gentle thump on the back. "Try to keep what you do low key. We don't want to alert whoever is behind this."

Grimly, D'ram nodded.

Once back astride Tarnaa, I sent a quick request to Mnementh and Ramoth, asking them to bring their riders to the Harper Hall. That done, Goldie astride my shoulder, Tarnaa took wing, the three of us vanishing _between_ after barely clearing the trees!

Once back at the Harper Hall, I called an urgent meeting in the Masterharper's office. In attendance… F'lar and Lessa from Benden Weyr… Masterharpers Sebell and Menolly… Lord Groghe… N'ton… plus Jaxom and Sharra from Ruatha.

"You alright, Dana?" Menolly solicited, noting the worried color of Goldie's rapidly spinning eyes.

I shook my head. "If what I suspect is true, a lot of people could die… horribly!"

"What do you mean?" Jaxom wondered, glancing at his wife.

"You remember Kara?"

"Yes," Groghe responded. "An angry child when she first came here."

"Till Dana helped her find the truth," Sebell added, worried eyes on me.

"She found an Ancients' walkie-talkie in one of Landing's Quonset huts," I explained, my expression grim.

"Walkie… what?!" F'lar stammered, clearly confused.

"Walkie-talkie," Sharra responded. "A means of communicating by voice over distance. AIVAS called it radio waves. Not unlike the drum towers."

"Hmmph," Groghe harrumphed, crossing his arms over his barrel-round chest. "Heard some of my people talking about 'em. Would make running the hold easier if we could quickly communicate with each other."

"But wouldn't an Ancients' device be completely dead after all this time?" Lessa asked.

"Yes," I acknowledged. "As old as the thing was, it should've been completely drained of power."

"Should've been?!" Sebell exclaimed, nearly leaping up from his seat. "You don't mean…"

"Someone at Landing found out what the walkie-talkie was," I grimly spoke, glancing about the table. "They figured out how to recharge it… and how to use it."

"You're certain?" N'ton asked.

I nodded. "Fandarel and I were going over the plans for the teaching hospital when Kara brought the walkie to us. She'd heard voices coming from one of the Quonset huts, but when she checked it out, the only thing she found was the recently recharged walkie-talkie."

"Voices, you say?" Groghe cut in. "Whose?"

"Kara couldn't say who it belonged to," I replied, my expression grim. "But what she did recall scared the hell out of me."

Everybody's eyes got suddenly larger.

"Why?" Lessa whispered, clearly nervous.

"She could only recall two snippets," I responded, meeting the gaze of the others. "'Orbits'… and 'access codes'."

"They sound harmless enough," Sebell remarked, laying a long finger of his hand along his jawline.

"Each by itself would be," Jaxom broke in, leaning closer. "But, put together, it could mean real disaster!"

"I figured you would be the first to pick it up, Lord Jaxom," I quietly spoke, meeting his gaze. "Especially after all the work you did aboard the three colony ships!"

"Explain!" F'lar demanded.

"You need special codes to access the control systems of the Ancients' colony ships," Jaxom explained, his gaze sweeping those seated around the table. "It's how we were able to do all the things we did to bring an end to Thread…"

"You mean, like when we were able to extract the anti-matter cores that we later used to alter the Red Star's orbit," Lessa chimed in.

"Precisely," Jaxom acknowledged, thumping the table with his fist. "Those access codes allow you to control every aspect of the colony ship's operations…"

"By the Egg of Faranth!" he hissed, looking straight at me. "Including the ship's orbit!"

Except for Lord Groghe, who looked totally confused, everyone else gasped, their faces turning white as a sheet.

"By the First Egg, what's going on?" Groghe demanded, clearly unnerved.

"The Ancients' colony ships," I explained, leaning closer, "the Yokohama, the Bahrain, and the Buenos Aires, are easily many times larger than the largest settlements on Pern."

"That's impossible!" Groghe exclaimed.

"It's true, Lord Groghe," N'ton responded, glancing at the others. "Each of us has been aboard one of the ships. Masterhealer Dana is by no means exaggerating their size."

"They're enormous!" Sharra whispered, her eyes gazing skyward. "We nearly got lost just moving around a small section of them!"

"But they're just points of light in the sky!" Groghe argued, gesturing out the window.

"When a ship first appears on the horizon, my Lord," I addressed him, "does it appear full sized to you?"

"No," Groghe admitted. "Usually just a dot until it gets closer."

"The Ancients' vessels are in what is called a geosynch orbit," I went on. "Simply put, they are far enough away from Pern that the speed they are moving at keeps them positioned over the same spot on Pern."

"Just how big are they?"

"The Yokohama's main section is easily large enough to contain all of Fort Hold and the Harper Hall," Jaxom answered. "With room to spare for some of the outlying holds."

"Ancestors!" Groghe gasped, glancing about the room.

"They only appear as points of light because they are approximately 26000 miles high in orbit over Pern," N'ton added, shaking his head. "Still hard to believe, even though I've been up there!"

"If they are that far away," Groghe argued, once again searching the faces around him, "how do they pose a danger to Pern?"

"With the proper access codes, Lord Groghe," I replied, my expression grimly serious, "you could alter the orbits of the ships, causing them to crash into Pern!"

"What?!"

"Worse, you could cause them to crash into specific targets on the ground."

"Like Fort," N'ton whispered.

"Or Benden," Lessa gasped.

"Even Landing," Sharra finished.

"But Fort is built in solid rock!" Groghe argued.

"The energy released in such an impact, Lord Groghe," I tried to explain, "would be akin to you striking a small pebble as hard as you could with a sledgehammer. The colony ships, falling to Pern at nearly ten miles per second…"

"Per… per second?!" Groghe gasped.

I nodded.

"The energy released in an impact with such a massive object would instantly vaporize the rock for miles around," I went on, glancing around the room, "leaving an impact crater nearly a mile deep, flinging molten rock, dust, and debris in every direction!"

"Ancestors!" Groghe hissed, positively bug-eyed in horror.

"You believe that is what the Exiles are planning?" F'lar quietly asked, his hands trembling.

Grimly, I nodded.

"No wonder you called this meeting," N'ton muttered, running his own trembling hand through his hair.

"Isn't there anything we can do to stop it?" Sharra begged, clearly worried.

"As it happens, there is," I said, drawing startled gasps from the others.

With that, I began laying out what I had in mind. Secrecy was the key. Only those who had a need to know were let in on the plan.

After explaining D'ram's concern about the hospital construction site's vulnerability, Lord Groghe agreed to send a handpicked team of his best security men and women to Robinton Cove to aid the Oldtimer dragonrider.

Initial work at the Harper Hall complete, Goldie, Tarnaa, and I returned to the Quester's crash site. I had a special call to make.

After switching on the batteries and firing up the vidcomm system, I placed an urgent call to the Wolfhound.

"Can you help us out, Captain?" I asked.

"You're certain of your suspicions?" he responded, frowning at what I had just told him.

Grimly, I nodded. "What better way to exact their revenge than to use the very ships that brought the colonists here?"

"After what Dav and Key reported about this 'Thread' thing," Captain Morgan muttered, shaking his head. "I had my science officer download the vids from AIVAS." His face got noticeably paler. "Living without protection aside, if what you suspect is true, the death toll would be nothing short of apocalyptic!"

"Will you help us, Captain?"

Grimly, he nodded.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I said, "Thank you, Captain. As soon as I've completed my preparations, I'll signal you."

"Good luck, Sterling. You're going to need it! Wolfhound out!"

My next call was via dragonlink to Ruth.

 _Can you bring Jaxom to my ship, Ruth? I need his help… and yours._

 _We're on our way, Masterhealer!_ the little white dragon instantly replied.

Moments later, while dragons and fire lizards chatted outside, I briefed Jaxom on my plan.

"That's where you come in, Jaxom," I said, gesturing skyward. "You and Ruth have been to the colony ships. I need to get aboard them in order to set this up."

"You can't do this from Landing?" he inquired.

I shook my head. "While it is certainly possible, I have to assume we have an Exiles spy… possibly more than one… working there. My presence at Landing, especially accessing the colony ships from one of the terminals, would be a dead giveaway. In order to maintain secrecy, I need you and Ruth to show me the way directly to the colony ships."

"By jumping _between_."

I nodded.

"We'll need suits to get there," Jaxom sighed, leaning back. "Once we finished extracting the anti-matter cores, we put the onboard life support systems on minimal to conserve energy." Rising, he turned toward the hatch. "We'll have to make some sort of excuse to go back to Landing to retrieve them."

"That's why I had you come here, instead," I said, opening a cabinet.

Hanging within were several spare spacesuits.

"These should do!" I chuckled, handing one to the Ruathan Lord.

Just then, an annoying beeping filled the room.

"What's that?" Jaxom wondered, glancing about.

It was coming from the Yokohama's portable terminal pad lying nearby. I took a quick glance at it, then said, "This way."

Where was I leading Jaxom? Up to the Quester's cockpit. He arrived just as I was taking my position in the pilot's chair.

"I've been using the Yokohama's sensors to monitor the area around my ship," I explained, throwing a few switches before grabbing a control stick. "It picked up an anomaly."

"Anomaly?" Jaxom responded, leaning over my shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"There's a human on a nearby rise," I replied, flicking on a nearby monitor. "He's not moving."

"Watching us?" Jaxom nervously concluded.

"Possibly," I said, twisting the control stick I was using.

The image on the screen slid rapidly sideways as one of my external cameras pivoted about. Once it locked in on the ridge, I leaned the control stick forward, making the camera zoom in. A face, peering through a pair of binoculars, soon appeared.

"You were right," Jaxom muttered, clearly concerned. "An exile?"

I flicked on a second monitor. Just as our unknown observer lowered the binoculars, I pressed a button on the joystick, transferring a captured image of his face to the second monitor. It appeared on the left side of the screen.

"Now let's see if we can find a match to any of the known Exiles," I whispered, keying in a sequence on the keyboard.

A rapid series of images began to flash up on the right side of the screen, facial recognition markers showing up on the left image. Within seconds, the image on the right stopped on a matching image.

"He's aged a bit since that portrait was made," I mused, gesturing at the two images, "but it's definitely him."

"An Exile?" Jaxom queried.

I nodded. "Molo Kem, one of those involved in the kidnapping of Master Robinton."

"Why is he here?" Jaxom asked.

"Landing is a very public place at this time," I concluded. "Whoever is planning the attack needs a little privacy. And my spaceship out here in the middle of nowhere is a perfect place."

As I rose from the chair after powering my equipment down, I added, "We need to find out what he knows."

"How?" Jaxom wondered.

"Think you can have Ruth get the local fire lizards to help us?"

Grinning mischievously, Jaxom nodded.

On the nearby rise, Molo was beginning to wonder what the two hated Riders were doing inside the strange craft. Seconds later, the air above him was filled to bursting with fire lizards, screaming as they dove at him. Any bare patch of skin on Molo's body was instantly assaulted by needle sharp claws or singed by gouts of fire lizard fire!

Panicked by the sudden attack from above, Molo ran, waving his arms frantically to keep the little terrors at bay. But he didn't get far. The ground in front of him suddenly exploded, the blast hurling him backwards. When the dust settled and he was able to clear the dirt from his eyes, Molo found himself staring down the steaming barrel of my Star Service blaster!

"We need to talk," I quietly informed him, the equally angry Jaxom at my side.

Molo was no soldier… and certainly not an Exile fanatic. The moment I blasted two more craters in the ground just behind him, he was more than happy to tell us everything! N'ton on bronze Lioth arrived seconds later with a pair of Lord Groghe's strongest security officers.

"It's as I feared," I muttered to N'ton as Lord Groghe's men took Molo into custody. "The Exiles were trying to figure out how to access the onboard systems of the three colony ships. If they could manage that, Bergrun, their leader, was planning to crash them into Benden Weyr, Fort Hold, and Landing."

N'ton's face got noticeably whiter.

"At the same time, a ground assault team would be striking at Ruatha," Jaxom hissed, clenching and unclenching his fists, "killing anyone and everyone they could find."

All N'ton could do was shake his head, appalled at the level of destruction we faced.

"Were you able to get the help you needed from your friends?" he asked, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Thankfully, yes," I replied, giving his shoulder a thump. "Now I just need Jaxom's help to lay the trap."

With one final nod, N'ton returned to his dragon. Once mounted, he helped Lord Groghe's men up and belted them in safely. Molo was already safely secured in Lioth's front claws and that's where he stayed, even as the mighty bronze dragon took wing!

"Let's go," I told Jaxom as I headed back to my ship.

Inside, I helped Jaxom into a spacesuit infinitely better than the ones the citizens of Pern had fabricated from AIVAS' notes. Once I knew he was ready, I donned my own. Then we headed outside to the waiting Ruth.

"Tarnaa, I need you and Goldie to remain here until I can safely send for you," I told my dragon after locking the hatch on my vessel.

 _Understood_ , she quietly replied, giving my face a gentle head rub.

"Be good, Goldie," I added, placing her astride Tarnaa's neck. "We won't be apart long."

Her answer was a quiet trill of acceptance, her eyes shading to a worried orange.

 _We're going back to the Yokohama?_ Ruth asked, his excitement clear, his eyes brilliant blue.

Jaxom's reply was a chuckle as he patted his dragon's side. With a practiced leap, he was instantly astride his lifemate. Then, reaching down, Jaxom helped me mount directly behind him. Practice and routine took over as we both snapped our riding belts into Ruth's harness.

When I thumped him on the shoulder and gave him a thumbs up, Jaxom said, "Let's fly, Ruth!"

A couple of strides to get a running start, the white dragon leapt skyward, bearing the two of us aloft. Climbing higher and higher, with one final beat of his wings, we vanished _between_ , emerging seconds later in the main docking bay aboard the Yokohama!

"Should we bring life support systems back online?" Jaxom asked as he unclipped from Ruth's harness.

"Ship-wide, no," I responded, also unclipping. "We can do limited life support here in the docking bay so that Tarnaa and Goldie can join us. We can also do the same at the auxiliary bridge where we'll be working. The rest of the ship will stay powered down. Less chance of anyone spotting our activity that way."

"Let's get to work, then," Jaxom grimly remarked.

First order of business was to increase the atmosphere in the docking bay to Pern normal then raise its temperature to a chilly but survivable 60 degrees Fahrenheit. This took about an hour to accomplish, but once Jaxom and I had it set up, Ruth called Tarnaa and Goldie!

I couldn't help chuckling at my two lizard friends' efforts to move about in zero-G, but I felt confident enough in Ruth's abilities to teach them the ropes that I led Jaxom over to the lift station and up to the auxiliary bridge.

Once more, we powered up life support in this much smaller area and were able in only a few minutes to remove our helmets and gloves.

"So how is all this supposed to work?" Jaxom asked as I took a seat at one of the computer stations and powered it on.

"To pull this off," I began explaining as I opened up command access to the central computer core, "we have to convince the Exiles that they have complete control of the colony ships."

"And how will you do that?" Jaxom wondered, looking over my shoulder as I worked.

"By creating a dummy control system for them to mess with," I replied, tic-a-tacking on the computer keyboard.

"A dummy system? Won't they figure out the ruse?"

"That's why I asked the Wolfhound for their help," I replied, continuing my work at a frenetic pace. "In the event of hostile actions, they can deploy holodecoys to confuse their attackers."

"Humor me, Dana," Jaxom moaned, shaking his head. "What by The First Egg is a holodecoy?"

"When activated, a holodecoy can project an image around itself, even of something as massive as the Yokohama," I explained, entering some new commands into the computer. "It can also emit an energy signature that mimics the ship it is imitating, making the decoy seem real!"

"How does this help us?"

"I just finished duplicating the command and control system here on the Yokohama. That will act as our dummy control. I've also isolated the real Yokohama's controls in a hidden directory so that no one on the surface can get access to it. You have to be onboard for that… and have the command override password to get to it."

"And the dummy system?"

"To anyone on the ground, it will seem as though they are accessing the Yokohama's controls.  
But with the dummy system, any commands they send from the ground will be instantly routed to the holodecoy instead. It will look and act exactly like the real thing."

"Clever," Jaxom mused, rubbing his chin, "but won't the Exiles notice the appearance of a second Yokohama in the skies over Pern?"

"No," I replied, striking several more keys on the keyboard, "because we will be deploying two decoys for each ship."

"Two?" Jaxom stammered, clearly confused. "How will that help?"

"One decoy will take up position beneath us, projecting an image of empty space where we are now," I explained. "A cloak to disguise the real ship."

"Then the other decoy will be linked into your dummy control system," Jaxom added, his excitement growing, "taking the place of the real colony ship!"

"Yes."

In order to maintain secrecy, the Wolfhound made a quick pass of the Pern colony ships, dropping off the necessary holodecoys in their wake. Having served in the Star Service, I knew how to access the decoys in order to carry out my plan. Within an hour, everything was ready on all three colony ships.

Watching from the aux bridge of the Buenos Aires, Jaxom gasped as he watched the Yokohama and the Bahrain seem to dissolve and shift position slightly in space.

"Whoa!" he whispered, leaning over my shoulder as I closed down the console. "That was amazing! Now what?"

"We have to come up with a plan for dealing with the Ruathan attack group," I sighed, giving my face a tired scrubbing. "Given the Fall forecasts I've looked over, we'll only have enough available dragonriders to cover the necessary Falls and three of the four attack sites."

"Are you sure?" Jaxom nervously inquired, his face betraying his anxiety. "Maybe we could…"

"No, 'timing it' is out," I argued, anticipating what he was going to suggest. "Fighting the Falls and repelling the attacks will be stressful enough without borrowing trouble. No, we have to come up with another solution. I have an idea, but I'm loathe to use it."

"What do you mean?"

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jaxom wondered.

"You'll see," I quietly remarked as I picked up my spacesuit helmet.

Jaxom and I returned to the Buenos Aires' landing bay where we reunited with our dragons and fire lizard friends. From there, I was able to use one of the local control consoles to power down the life support systems. Donning our spacesuit gloves and helmets, we boarded our lifemates, collected our fire lizard friends, and popped 'between' back to Misty Hold and the Quester's crash site. Once Jaxom and I had doffed our spacesuits and stored them back in the storage closet aboard my ship, I sealed and locked the Quester and we were once more awing back to the Harper Hall for another planning meeting.

"It was amazing to watch!" Jaxom reported to the others in attendance. "It was almost as if the ships went _between_ then reappeared a short distance to one side!"

"So the threat from the colony ships has been dealt with," F'lar murmured, his gaze fixed squarely on me. "What now?"

"I've gone over the Fall reports from the Yokohama and AIVAS," I reported, laying the documents on the table. "We have a problem."

"What sort of problem?" Lord Groghe grunted.

"By my best calculations," I replied, lowering my eyes, "with the forecast Falls and the demands of dealing with that, we only have enough spare riders to cover three of the four attack sites!"

"What?!" nearly everyone gasped, eyes flying wide.

"There must be a way!" Sharra exclaimed. "Dragons can 'time it'. Maybe we could…"

All the dragonriders present shook their heads in the negative.

"Too risky," Jaxom tried to explain to his wife. "Flying Fall is stressful enough without borrowing trouble, as Dana put it. She has an idea, and I think I know what she plans, but to do it…"

Jaxom blanched, trembling slightly, drawing a startled gasp from the other dragonriders.

"You can't be serious!" F'lar gasped, wide eyes on me.

"I don't see any other way," I whispered, my hands trembling.

"What are you talking about?" Groghe demanded, searching the faces around him.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Jaxom whispered, looking straight at me.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Groghe grunted.

"Dana wants to use Thread to stop the fourth attack group."

"WHAT?!" the Fort Lord Holder gasped, his fire lizard Merga hissing in concert with him. "That… that's…"

"Believe me," I muttered, my gaze sweeping the room, "having seen what Thread can do, I don't want to do it." Lowering my eyes, I added, "I just don't see any other way to deal with the problem."

The room fell silent, nearly a full five minutes passing. It was Jaxom who finally broke the silence.

"So how do we pull this off?" he wondered, his face betraying the pain he felt.

"First, we have to identify who the spies are at Landing and Robinton Cove," I softly explained. "Once we do, we start feeding them false information about the Fall."

"But the Fall patterns are different each day," Lessa argued. "How can we possibly give them false information if we don't know when they plan to attack?"

"I believe we do," I argued, meeting everyone's gazes.

"Explain," Lessa demanded.

"Because of AIVAS, we know when the Ancients first arrived on Pern," I explained, meeting her gaze. "The anniversary of that special day is coming up. To maximize their revenge and the effect it has, I believe that is the day the Exiles are planning to attack."

The room fell silent as that observation was slowly digested.

"It makes sense," N'ton finally admitted, shaking his head.

"But there are only three colony ships," Sharra remarked, her expression confused. "Not four. Why attack Ruatha?"

"Because of what happened to Master Robinton," I responded, my expression apologetic. "As a result of the special Convocation and trial that was held in Ruatha, that was the moment their journey into exile began."

"Crackdust!" Groghe hissed, his own eyes filled with sudden realization.

"And what is their interest in Robinton Cove?" F'lar wondered. "I don't see the connection."

"Convenience," I concluded. "It's relatively close to Landing, giving them access to the data AIVAS contains and the computer systems necessary to alter the colony ships' orbits."

"It also provides easy access to the sea and is far enough away from any other holds in the Southern Continent to minimize discovery of their efforts," Master Idarolan interrupted, breathing hard as he entered. "Sorry I'm late."

"I'm grateful you could make it on such short notice, Master Idarolan," I assured him, smiling warmly. "We need your knowledge and experience if we're to deal with the Exiles."

"How so?" he wondered, taking an empty seat.

"The attack on Ruatha," I explained, leaning closer. "Clearly, for the reasons already stated, Robinton Cove was important to them."

"Agreed," Idarolan replied.

"Tell me, Master Idarolan," I spoke, gesturing to the others, "could someone sail from the Eastern Islands to attack Ruatha without being detected?"

"Hmm, an effective assault force would require quite a few ships," he mused, rubbing his chin. "That alone would make it difficult to do without being seen."

"Could they sail east?" I asked, meeting his gaze.

"East?!" Idarolan gasped, sitting bolt upright in his chair.

"Yes, across the Ring and Western Seas," I went on. "They could conceivably escape detection that way."

For nearly a minute, Idarolan stared at me, his expression incredulous. Then,…

"Yes, yes they could," he whispered, concern etched on his face. "There are no known Holds, Halls, or Weyrs going east."

"Do you know any shipmasters who could make the trip?" I asked. "Specifically, those who might have sympathies for the Exiles?"

"Ahh, too many to count," Idarolan grunted. "I'm not liking the sound of this, Dana."

So I laid out my theory that the Exiles planned to sail east from the islands to escape detection. Once across the Ring and Western Seas and shielded from view by the Western mountains, they would sail for the Greeny River.

"Greeny River?!" Idarolan exclaimed, thumping the table. "I've had reports from several other shipmasters of vessels sailing up the Greeny River! Not all the way up, too many rapids, but carrying large quantities of men and supplies, supposedly to establish a new hold!"

"How many men?" Jaxom asked, he, like the rest, already dreading the answer.

"Enough to make a sizeable assault force!" Idarolan sighed, shielding his eyes.

"Skirt through the mountains, and they could descend on Ruatha with little or no warning!" N'ton cursed. "Crackdust!"

"There's a narrow canyon west of Ruatha," I spoke into the silence.

"Yes, south of the minecraft hold you stopped at on your journey to Misty Hold!" Jaxom recalled.

"I remember," I sighed, shaking my head. "It's smooth and wide enough for foot soldiers and riders to make their way across the mountains after disembarking on the eastern shores of Greeny River."

"I know that canyon pass," N'ton grunted, shaking his head. "The sides are steep enough to prevent escape."

"Are we agreed, then?" I asked everyone.

To a one, they all nodded.

"So be it," I sighed. "Master Idarolan?"

"I'll check with my shipmasters," he responded, anticipating my needs. "See what I can learn… both on the eastern sailing… and the goings on at Greeny River."

"Do it quietly," F'lar cautioned. "We don't want to tip off the Exiles."

As Master Idarolan rose and left, I spoke once more to the others.

"We have to appear as if we don't know a thing," I cautioned everyone.

"Dana…" Groghe grunted.

"She's right," Jaxom spoke, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "The less aware we appear…"

"The easier it will be to guide the Exiles into our trap," Lessa concluded, placing her hand on my other shoulder.

That was it, then. The plan was set. All we had to do now was spring the trap.


	36. Chapter 36 - Canyon Of Death

Chapter 36

Canyon of Death

The first challenge then was identifying who the spies were at Landing and Robinton Cove. Oddly enough, the breakthroughs came from a most unlikely source… the local wild fire lizards!

Perhaps sensing the urgency from me, Goldie had spent time conversing with the local fire lizards. So had Piemur's Farli. As a result, several wild fire lizards came forward, sharing memories of strange activities they'd seen!

"You're sure he's the one?" I asked Piemur.

We were in one of the side terminal rooms of the main AIVAS building, ostensibly checking on the weather forecasts for the upcoming week. What we were really doing was using the surveillance systems built into each terminal to call up a visual of the people sitting at each of the keyboards.

Piemur nodded.

"Farli spotted him sneaking into Landing several weeks ago," the Harper journeyman explained. "He's pretty outgoing, you know, friends with everyone here. Oddly enough, no one seems to know where he's from."

"Curious," I muttered, zooming the image in on his face.

"He's been digging through the old records related to the colony ships' maneuvering thrusters," the journeyman Harper went on, scratching his head as he did.

"Did he say why?" I asked, capturing an image of the man in a small sub-window on the screen I was looking at.

Piemur shook his head.

"AIVAS, what else has he been accessing?" I asked.

"He asked if there were any teaching programs on how to operate the colony ship positional thrusters," the machine responded.

"Are there?" I wondered, activating a facial recognition biometrics program.

"In one of the older archives, Masterhealer," AIVAS replied. "He's been repeatedly running the tutorial program now for the last several weeks."

A warning flag popped up in the little sub-window on my screen… MATCH FOUND.

I had been running a facial recognition program not unlike the one I'd used on Molo Kem, checking to see if this man's face matched any of the known Exiles who'd been tried and convicted of the attack on AIVAS and the kidnapping of Master Robinton. The face was scarred and obscured by a full beard, but the biometric parameters could not be deceived.

"I think we've found our spy," I whispered, looking up at Piemur.

"He's an Exile?"

I nodded, tapping the sub-window on my screen. "Problem is, we don't have biometric data on everyone who went into exile on the Eastern Islands. And then there's the matter of dealing with any Exile sympathizers. How do we identify them?"

"So what do we do?" the Harper journeyman hissed.

"For now, we do nothing," I whispered, shutting down my terminal and walking out of the building.

Once outside, I turned and asked, "You have that mini monitor?"

Piemur held up the small deck-of-cards sized device.

"Don't lose it," I cautioned, holding up my own. "The moment anyone attempts to access any of the colony ships' thruster controls or request Fall forecasts in the Ruatha canyon area for the days around the Landing anniversary will trigger an alert."

"But what about legitimate holders looking for a Fall forecast?" Piemur wondered, looking a little concerned.

"They will get an accurate forecast," I replied, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "Only those specific to that one Ruathan canyon region will get the doctored report."

"Aah, I still don't like doing this," Piemur muttered, Farli landing on his shoulder to offer what comfort she could. Looking straight at me, he added, "But we don't have a choice, do we?"

"No," I sighed, Goldie doing her best to comfort me with head strokes on my cheek. "If we fail, a lot of people will die."

Grimly, Piemur nodded.

"Watch your back, my friend," I said as I boarded my dragon.

"You, too," Piemur grunted, shaking my hand before backing off a safe distance.

"One more stop to make, Tarnaa," I said, settling my goggles in place. "Let's get to it."

With a powerful push from her hind legs, my lifemate sprang into the air, her great gossamer wings carrying Goldie and I higher and higher into the sky with every stroke. A heartbeat later, we vanished _between_.

Seconds later, we emerged in the air over Misty Hold and headed straight to my vessel's crash site. Landing a short distance away, I unhooked my riding belt and slid down my lifemate's side, Goldie firmly ensconced on my shoulder and neck. I did a quick check of the outside then keyed open the hatch.

In my quarters, I retrieved the copy of the Pern Colony Charter that Rita had given me back on Earth, took one last look about, then returned to Tarnaa.

Stuffing the charter into her saddle bags, I turned, drew my blaster, thumbed the setting to maximum…

And was just about to pull the trigger when I felt a disturbance in the skies above us. As I looked up, Ryeena, astride her queen Sylene, popped out of _between_. The pair circled once then came to ground, kicking up a cloud of dust in their haste.

"Dana, what's going on?" Ryeena asked, sliding down her queen's side and running over to me; Bolter squawking loudly in protest to the rough handling. Then she saw the weapon in my hand. "What's wrong? Why is your blaster out?"

"Because there's something I need to do," I sighed, raising my weapon and aiming it at my ship.

"Dana, no!" Ryeena gasped, seizing the barrel of the weapon and pulling it down. "That's your ship!"

"It has to be done, Ryeena," I argued, meeting her worried gaze.

Bolter was just as confused, his eyes shading to a nervous orange, constant twitters coming from him.

"But why?" my fellow queen rider begged, glancing from me to the Quester.

"My ship will never fly again, Ryeena," I said, patting her hand with my free one. "But the computer systems onboard are still operational."

Glancing up at the Quester, tears in my eyes, I added, "We can't let those systems fall into Exile hands. The consequences would be nothing short of apocalyptic. The risk to the people of Pern is just too great. Please, Ryeena, I have to."

Tears trickling down her own face, Ryeena slowly nodded as she let go of my weapon.

Giving my dear friend a warm hug, I once more raised my blaster… and fired. In moments, the Quester was reduced to a rapidly dispersing cloud of scintillating particles.

 _Why did you do that?_ Tarnaa wondered, her thoughts full of concern.

Goldie was equally confused, her rapidly spinning eyes shading to an uncertain orange.

"No choice, my heart," I sighed, giving her neck a loving pat as I reholstered my blaster. "We couldn't risk someone using the Quester to access the colony ships and bring them crashing out of orbit."

Ryeena wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "Dana, I am so sorry."

"Yeah, me, too," I replied, returning the hug. "Get back to Benden. Let them know about this."

"You got it!" Ryeena assured me, giving me one last hug before climbing back aboard her dragon.

Safety belt clipped into place, Bolter firmly seated on Ryeena's shoulder, Sylene took wing, climbing higher and higher into the Misty Hold sky before vanishing _between_.

With one final look at the now empty Quester crash site, I remounted my dragon and headed off in search of Master Fandarel. I found him hard at work in the hospital construction office at Robinton Cove.

"It is a truly elegant design," he sighed, glancing at the construction blueprints. "Efficient, nigh indestructible, beautiful!"

"Your design?" I inquired, Goldie peering over my shoulder at the drawings.

With a shake of his massive head, the burly smith admitted, "Aramina's! I never knew…"

"She had you as her teacher, my friend," I said, giving his shoulder a playful poke. "I'm not surprised!"

Walking over to the window so I could see the work going on, I asked, "Any problems here?"

"You mean with the Exiles?" Fandarel grunted, joining me at the window. "Since the arrival of Groghe's security team, no. D'ram has been keeping a close eye on everyone in or out."

Turning to face me, he asked, "Do you think they'll try anything here?"

I shook my head. "My guess is they merely wanted to use Cove Hold as a staging area for their assaults."

"Yes," the smith rumbled, rubbing his chin. "Away from other settlements yet close to AIVAS, it would've been a very efficient arrangement."

"With all the activity, buildup, and increased scrutiny here," I sighed, turning toward the door, "they lost their secluded staging area and have had to look for other means to carry out their attack."

"But how?" Fandarel asked, his face lined with concern.

"We have evidence of Exile spies at Landing," I informed him. "Plus, according to Master Idarolan, there has been a steady buildup of men and supplies along Greeny River, sufficient to make a sizeable assault force."

"Shards and shells!" Fandarel hissed, his face noticeably paler.

"Until this crisis is over, my friend," I said, laying my hand on his burly arm, "be very, very cautious. Always be aware of your surroundings, especially here at the build site. If you see anything suspicious, let D'ram know."

Fandarel nodded. "Be careful yourself, Dana."

Goldie rose on my shoulder, hissing and snapping, her wings spread in warning.

"Count on it!" I told him, giving Goldie's eye ridge a scratch before I turned and left.

Waiting for the Exiles next move was the hardest part. Several times in the days leading up to the Landing anniversary, unknown individuals used AIVAS to access Fall forecasts for the Ruathan canyon area. Images captured by AIVAS did not match any of the known Exiles. Further scrutiny by the Harpers, the Weyrfolk, or Master Idarolan's people yielded no results.

During the wait, I did receive several rather bizarre reports of individuals who were nearly kidnapped, including members of Holder Gerrald's family. In every instance, what was bizarre is that the would-be attackers were each driven off by fairs of wild fire lizards!

"No idea who's behind it?" Lessa asked when we had a chance to discuss the occurrences.

I shook my head.

"Unfortunately, the images I got from Goldie and Tarnaa were blurred and indistinct. No way of telling who those people were."

"Wait a sec!" Kara cut in, leaning closer to the map we had spread out on the table in the Weyrwoman's quarters. "Where were those attacks at?"

"What is it, child?" Lessa asked, also leaning closer. "Did you think of something?"

Kara dashed out of Lessa's quarters, returning a few seconds later with a fist full of gravel.

"Where?" she once more insisted, resuming her chair at the table.

We went back over the attack reports, Kara planting a bit of gravel at each location. By the time we finished, Lessa and I both gasped at what we had discovered. Goldie, perched on my shoulder, hissed softly at what the map revealed.

"Shards of my dragon's egg!" Lessa hissed. "All of the attacks were near either Landing, Fort Hold…"

"Or Benden Weyr!" I whispered, jaw clenched painfully tight. "Three of the four targets we know the Exiles plan to attack."

"Looks like they've been probing the areas around their targets," F'lar grunted, having come in right behind Kara.

"Looking for staging areas for their assault teams," Lessa concluded. "Kara, I…"

Kara's gaze was fixed on the map, her whole body trembling with fury.

"We have to stop them!" she whispered, tears pouring down her face.

"These empty regions on the map will be good places to check," F'lar quietly spoke, pointing to the places on Kara's gravel map that were empty.

Turning, he then came over and knelt beside Kara, taking one of her clenched fists into his hands.

"We wouldn't have known where to start looking without you, child," F'lar quietly spoke, planting a gentle kiss on Kara's forehead. "Thank you."

"Sweep riders?" Lessa suggested, rising from her seat.

"No," I disagreed. Looking from Kara to F'lar then over at Lessa, I said, "Harpers."

F'lar and Lessa exchanged glances, then looked back at me, both smiling and nodding.

It made sense. Harpers were experienced mediators, trained to sift through everything that had been said to get at the truth.

I sent word to Lioth, asking his rider to request the Harper Hall's assistance. Within a day, coded drum messages were sent out across the continent. By the close of the week, we had confirmed sightings of Exiles staging in the lands southeast of Benden Weyr, the foothills north of Hold Gar, and the southernmost of the Southern Islands, right in Monaco Bay.

Master Idarolan was proud of his craft. He couldn't do anything about the assault teams that had already been positioned, but the moment he learned which of his shipmasters had provided the Exiles transport, he had them arrested for later prosecution.

The little subroutine I had installed in AIVAS soon alerted us to the first of the thruster adjustments to the three colony ships… the Dawn Sisters. And it was Master Wansor, Masterstarsmith, who alerted us to the change of position of those same craft.

"No question," he grunted, pointing to the calculations he had laid out on the table in Sebell's office at the Harper Hall. "Unless the course is corrected, in three days, all three craft will fall to Pern, striking Benden Weyr, Fort Hold, and Landing."

"On the very day we were planning to celebrate the anniversary of the Ancients' arrival on Pern," Sebell muttered, looking a bit shaken. "Looks like you were right, Dana."

Others were also in attendance… N'ton of Fort Weyr, Jaxom of Ruatha, Piemur from Landing, K'van of the Southern Weyr, and the Benden Weyrleaders.

"Evacuation plans are all in place," Piemur reported, glancing around the room. "How bad's it going to be? Can we get everyone clear in time?"

"We have to try, my friend," I replied, laying a comforting hand on Piemur's shoulder. "Get going. Spread the word!"

Piemur nodded and left; meeting up with the brown dragon and rider from Southern Weyr waiting to escort him back to Landing.

"Strike teams ready?" I asked once Piemur was out of earshot.

N'ton, K'van, and the Benden leaders all nodded.

"Then, we'd best get what sleep we can," I sighed, rising. "All hell's gonna break loose soon!"

I wasn't exaggerating! The morning of the Ancients' Landing anniversary, the same day the three colony ships looked ready to slam into Pern, a tidal wave of sounds outside my Benden Weyr quarters woke me from a sound sleep! I soon realized why.

Rubbing sleep from my eyes as I reached the opening of my quarters, a sea of dragons spread out before me! Every single dragon and rider that would be part of the three strike teams had gathered at Benden in order to coordinate their efforts. And that meant I'd better bust my ass and get ready!

While I would've enjoyed a leisurely bath, the frenetic pace outside meant the best I could do was a quick wash from my basin. A fast change of clothes, a timely assist from Kara braiding up my hair in the Exile style, then the two of us rushed over to the dining cavern.

When we got there, we discovered the strike teams had also flown in support staff to augment Benden's weyrfolk. There was a veritable conveyor belt of food preparers and servers hurrying the riders through the lines; Manora supervising the entire affair. What struck me the most was how eerily quiet it was. Not a single word from any rider. They were totally focused on what we had to do today.

Somewhere during the meal, the portable Yokohama terminal I was carrying sounded an alarm. At almost the same instant, the Weyr's Threadfall alarm went off! It was time! Glasses, cutlery, and plates clattered to the table tops as every single rider raced out to their waiting dragons!

As I sprinted across the Weyr bowl to where Tarnaa was waiting, an eerie feeling suddenly swept over me. As I glanced about, I realized every single eye was on me, waiting for the command.

"Everyone… to your positions!" I ordered, mounting Tarnaa. "Pray for guidance, pray for wisdom, pray we pull this off! To the skies!"

Every dragon and rider leapt skyward, vaning about to avoid collisions. Wings formed up then vanished _between_ , taking up hidden positions around Landing, Benden Weyr, and Fort Hold. Soon, we were alone.

As Goldie gently landed on my shoulder, twining her tail about my neck, I gave Tarnaa our own destination fix, and the three of us took flight, vanishing _between_ after barely gaining wing room.

Seconds later, we emerged over the canyon that snaked its way through the lands west of Ruatha. Tarnaa knew where we needed to go. She landed on a small rock outcropping at the edge of the canyon, a place that gave us an unrestricted view of the terrain below. It was through there that the attack force of Exiles would attempt to reach Ruatha, bent on complete destruction of the Hold there and the total annihilation of every Holder they could find!

I pulled out the portable terminal pad that linked me directly to the Yokohama's onboard sensor array. I checked the status of the falling colony ships. Trajectories put them on direct collision courses with Landing, Benden Weyr, and Fort Hold; just as Master Wansor had predicted. I switched the sensors to biosignature mode. A large force of humans, the Exiles assault force, could be clearly seen making its way up the canyon towards Ruatha. They had to be stopped or everyone in the lands beyond the canyon would die.

I tweaked the sensors one final time, checking on my secret weapon. It was right on schedule and would reach our position a few minutes after the assault force appeared below. Everything was in place.

"Time to get ready, my heart," I sighed, putting the terminal pad away.

Tarnaa dropped off the canyon edge, gliding gracefully down to the canyon floor. Once there, I dismounted then sent her back up to keep watch.

Goldie softly hissed, rising up slightly as she spread her wings. Seconds later, the first echoing 'Klop-klop' of runnerbeasts reached my ears. Within moments, the lead elements of the Exiles attack force rode into view.

Mounted riders, walking foot soldiers drew closer. The runnerbeasts appeared edgy, nervous, whinnying and glancing off to the northeast.

"Whoa!" the lead rider ordered, raising his hand as he reined his skittish mount to a halt. "Well, what do we have here? A gift from Providence!"

"You!" one of the walking soldiers exclaimed, pushing his way to the front.

I recognized him immediately.

Kara's Da.

In a voice loud enough to echo down the canyon, I shouted, "If you leave now, return from whence you came, you might survive."

"You think to give us orders?" the leader chuckled. "You are even more a fool than I gave you credit for!" Gesturing to Kara's Da and two other men, he ordered, "Get rid of her!"

Kara's Da raised his spear. The other two soldiers drew their swords. Meanwhile, behind them, the runners were growing even more agitated.

"Take her!" Kara's Da hissed, charging with his spear.

The three men attacked simultaneously. Within seconds, their weapons clattered to the dirt, the three men sent flying, crashing heavily to the ground.

"So, the kitten has claws," the leader hissed, eyes narrowing to slits. "Archers!"

Before they could even nock an arrow, I whipped out my blaster, causing several nearby boulders to explode when I blasted them.

"Leave… now!" I ordered, leveling my blaster at the leader.

"Or what? You'll shoot?" he taunted me, struggling to keep his increasingly agitated mount still beneath him.

"Yes," I replied, thumbing the blaster to a different setting before pulling the trigger.

The stun blast knocked him off his mount, sending him crashing heavily to the dirt.

Freed from his rider, the runner whinnied in terror and bolted back down the canyon passage. This set up a panic in the other runners, some of them bucking their own riders from their saddles before joining the first in fleeing.

"Bergrun, are you okay?" Kara's Da grunted, helping the leader of the attack force to his feet.

"I'm fine," he spat, shaking free of the man's grip.

"What'd you do to the runners?" Kara's Da demanded.

"Not a thing," I replied, climbing a small rock outcropping so I could look down at the assembled force. "They were merely following their instincts, fleeing from a terror every creature on Pern knows."

"Thread!" someone in the back of the group suddenly cried out, pointing off to the northeast.

"You should've listened to your runners, men of the Eastern Islands," I grimly remarked, sweeping them with my gaze. "They were trying to warn you of the danger, but you wouldn't listen."

"Impossible!" Bergrun scoffed, drawing his sword. "There is no Threadfall scheduled for this area!"

"Which is what we wanted you to believe," I replied, scowling down at the men. "Once we realized you had a spy at Landing, we fed him false information, convincing you that this canyon was the only safe way to reach Ruatha."

This set up an anxious murmuring in the force.

"You have a radio," I said, pointing to Bergrun. "Use it. Call the other assault teams. See if I'm bluffing."

Bergrun glared at me… then grabbed the radio.

"Assault team Lambda, report!" he radioed.

"Romeo, this is Lambda, something's wrong!" we all heard back. "The ship… it just vanished! Dragonriders are everywhere! We…"

The transmission fell silent.

"You'll hear the same from the other two teams, Bergrun," I explained. "With the help of my Federation comrades, we replaced the actual colony ships with holodecoys, making you think what was falling from the sky was the real thing."

"No, you're lying!" he cursed, smashing his radio on a nearby boulder. "We had control of the ships!"

"Dummy control systems that I set up once I realized what you were planning," I explained. "They reacted exactly like the real thing, but were connected to the holodecoys instead."

I surveyed the attack force, seeing disbelief register on most faces. Anger and frustration were writ across the faces of Bergrun and Kara's Da.

"The radios… the computer terminals… even the Ancients' colony ships," I muttered, shaking my head. "Blinded by hate… how ironic that the Exiles resorted to using the very things they had forsworn."

"This changes nothing!" Bergrun spat. "We will have our revenge!"

"Too late," I sighed, once more shaking my head. "If you had listened to my warning… or that of your runners… but now it is too late. Behold."

I gestured back over my shoulder to the northeast. Clearly visible over the rim of the canyon was a curtain of grey… one that gradually transformed into the silver strands of…

"THREAD!" someone screamed, turning and running back down the canyon. This set up a panic in the rest. Weapons clattered to the dirt as many turned and ran.

They wouldn't make it.

"At least we'll have the satisfaction of watching you die with us!" Kara's Da hissed, grinning maliciously.

"Wrong again."

Running toward the edge of the outcropping, I jumped high into the air… where Tarnaa skillfully snatched me out of midair in a perfectly timed rescue.

"Farewell, Exiles!" I called down as Tarnaa winged higher. "I am truly sorry it had to come to this!"

That was my last sight of the men of the Eastern Islands before Tarnaa took us _between_.


	37. Chapter 37 - Aftermath

Chapter 37

 _Aftermath_

Soul-wrenching screams of terror filled the air as silver strands of the mindless organism known as Thread poured into the canyon. Within moments, only silence remained. So many died; so many that didn't have to… if they'd just listened… to their animals… and to me.

I was going to be sick.

Tarnaa brought me back to Benden Weyr. As we settled to the Weyr bowl and she released me from her claws, I could feel my insides churning. I fought it as far as the entrance to the Living Caverns before finally succumbing; spewing violently all over the ground.

 _I am sorry, lifemate,_ Tarnaa crooned to me, head caressing my cheek.

Goldie, meanwhile, was circling somewhere above, doing her best to console me.

"Hey, Skipper, are you alright?" Dav asked, he and Key rushing out the entrance.

All I could do was shake my head.

"Let's get you inside and get you some water," Key spoke, taking me by the elbow.

My two Federation friends sat me down at a nearby table. Manora came running over, a tall glass of water in her hands.

"Go slowly," she urged, holding the glass up to my lips, having correctly guessed the reason for my ill health.

Nodding my thanks, I began to take slow, small sips, trying to get my stomach back in order.

Not long after, other dragonriders began to arrive; their banter far more cheerful than I felt. Some were even celebrating the defeat of the Exile attack forces encountered in the hills north of Benden Hold.

And so it went for nearly an hour. Riders continued to arrive, celebrating the defeat of the Exiles at Fort Hold and at Landing. And with each hurrah or cheer, I only got angrier. They didn't seem to understand!

Finally, Benden's Weyrleader walked in, brushing dust from his face and jacket, accompanied by several other Benden riders.

"Well, I'm glad this sad mess is finally over," F'lar sighed, flinging his riding gloves onto a nearby table.

Like a white-hot supernova, sudden rage exploded inside me. Soundlessly, I walked up to Benden's Weyrleader, Goldie squealing in alarm somewhere above. Then, before anyone knew what was happening, I hauled off and punched F'lar right in the face, striking him so hard that he went flying over a nearby table before crashing heavily to the ground.

"Skipper, have you lost your mind?!" Dav gasped, seizing me by one arm, Key grabbing the other.

"My sister, what is wrong with you?" Key hissed, clearly disturbed by this turn of events.

"Dana?" Kara spoke, bug-eyed with disbelief.

"You better have a good explanation for what just happened, young lady," F'lar growled, finding his feet with the help of some of the other riders.

"Condescending now, are we, Weyrleader?" I growled, struggling in the grips of my two Federation friends. "Talking down to me as though I was a mere child? I have traveled across this galaxy, witnessed the wonders of Creation wherever I've gone. I have met and befriended members of countless races on worlds beyond number! Do not make the mistake of thinking me somehow beneath you!"

"But he's your Weyrleader!" Ryeena argued, clearly unnerved by what was happening.

"No, he's not," I argued. "Tarnaa may have been hatched here, but first and forever my allegiance is to my Craft and Hall. I am a Masterhealer, a veterinary surgeon, Craftmaster of Surgery here on Pern. I am also Lord Holder of Robinton Cove per Master Robinton's last will and testament. Those two facts alone put me on equal footing with you, Weyrleader."

"Then why did you strike him like that?" Lessa asked, her own anger only slightly controlled.

"I had my reason, but you won't like it."

"Explain," F'lar growled, nursing the growing bruise on his face.

"You want to know who I truly blame for this whole sad debacle?" I spoke to the crowd, fury smoldering in my eyes. "I blame the dragonriders!"

Righteous indignation exploded all around me; nearly every rider loudly protesting their innocence.

"That's absurd!" one exclaimed.

"We had nothing to do with this!" another argued with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Didn't you?" I growled, shaking free of my friends' grasps. "Let's review some of the facts of this case, shall we?"

"Turns ago, the dragonriders rediscovered Landing," I said, gesturing to the south, "the place where the Ancients originally set foot on this planet. Among all the amazing discoveries you unearthed there was the AIVAS unit, replete with a mind-numbing, seemingly endless supply of incredible information."

"So?" someone in the back of the room shrugged.

"I don't fault the dragonriders for making use of the data that AIVAS contained," I went on, unperturbed. "That knowledge helped you put in motion the very steps you needed to take to fulfill your ultimate goal… the end of Threadfall forever on Pern."

"What does any of this have to do with you trying to smash in my face?" F'lar demanded, blotting the blood that was streaming out his nose.

"Having analyzed all the data about the Red Star," I went on, sweeping the room with my gaze, "I understand why you had to act with haste in doing what you did. But tell me, oh wise Weyrleader, what did you do to keep the citizens of Pern informed about the reasons for your actions?"

"Well, I…"

"Did you think to engage the Harper Hall to help you explain what you were doing? You don't need to answer that. I spoke at length with nearly every member of the Hall. None could recall you asking for their help."

"What help could they have been?" another rider spoke. "They knew as little about all AIVAS' strange technologies as we did!"

Several other riders in the room voiced agreement.

" _ **THEY ARE HARPERS!**_ " I roared, sweeping my arm in a dismissive arc. "Teachers, purveyors of information and ideas. They are also mediators, trained to help diffuse difficult situations. If you had enlisted their aid in educating the citizenry about your actions and intents, it might well have averted the attack against AIVAS or the subsequent kidnapping of Masterharper Robinton!"

"But that was only the beginning," I went on, pacing back and forth. "I've gone over at length all the documentation and records concerning the trial of those arrested for the attack on AIVAS and for the kidnapping of Master Robinton."

"You can't honestly tell me you're defending those feckless…" someone stammered.

I shook my head. "What they did was wrong. Any number of galactic legal facilities would've convicted them of the crimes."

"So what's your point?" another rider complained. "They got what they deserved!"

"Did they?" I growled, the sudden, unbridled fury I felt turning my dragon eyes a bright burning red, causing everyone near me to back away. "Let's consider that observation, shall we?"

"Records from the trial indicated the choice between execution and banishment for those convicted was evenly split," I went on, glaring around the room. "It finally came down to Lord Jaxom casting the deciding vote."

"What of it?" F'lar grumbled, crossing his arms on his chest. "What's your point?"

"He chose banishment," I answered, face to face with Benden's Weyrleader. "Knowing Jaxom, he probably considered it a more humane punishment than execution."

"Your point?" Lessa wondered.

"Try putting yourself in their shoes, Weyrwoman," I responded, whirling to face her. "Can any of you tell me to my face that you could put yourselves in their shoes?"

"My sister," Key quietly spoke, "what troubles you?"

"I do not condone what those people did," I told him, turning to face my Kendite friend. "But banishment is a very harsh punishment."

"Harsh?!" F'lar shouted, his face writ with disbelief.

"As I said, Weyrleader," I responded, turning to face him. "Put yourself in their shoes."

I turned then, facing everyone else in the room.

"If any of you were banished… if everything you knew and loved… your home… your family… your friends… your way of life was suddenly stripped from you, and you were then sent away to a place you did not know, where you had to start your life all over from scratch… "

I turned back to F'lar. "How would you feel, Weyrleader?"

"I… "

Several seconds passed, and then…

"I would feel confused, hurt," Lessa quietly spoke, coming up to us. "Lost."

"Given what those people did," I went on, "would you consider that a punishment that fit their crime?"

I could see Lessa's jaw working, but she didn't answer.

"May I add something?"

It was Davar. I nodded.

"While I have not reviewed these records you mention, Skipper," he quietly remarked, "Federation law in this case would not have allowed such a punishment."

"What?!" several in the room gasped.

"Is that true?" Ryeena spoke to my Kendite brother.

"Yes, little friend," Key replied, nodding to her. "And corporal punishment… the taking of a life for a crime that is committed… has been banned."

"This is Pern!" F'lar argued, trying to dismiss the notion with a wave of his hand.

"I see doubt on your face, Weyrleader," I said to him, noting his confusion. "Be that as it may, a decision was made, based on the laws as you and your people saw it. And then, the unthinkable occurred, the single key factor that set this whole sad affair in motion."

"And what was that?" another rider asked.

"The dragonriders abandoned their most sacred trust and duty," I quietly replied.

"That's preposterous!" one rider exclaimed, several others nodding in agreement.

"Why were the dragons originally created?" I asked into the silence.

"We all know that," another scoffed, waving a dismissing hand.

"Enlighten me, rider," I demanded, stepping up to him, my dragon eyes still burning red. "Why were the dragons created?"

"To battle Thread."

"Why?" I demanded, glaring up at him. "We're talking about the Ancients, the ones who came here from across the sea of stars. Wouldn't their advanced technology have been better able to combat the Thread?"

"No, it wouldn't," Lessa answered, her head lowered.

"Why not, Weyrwoman?"

"They… "

"They were trying to escape the reach of the Federation," Key replied, recalling what we had discussed. "They would not have brought with them the means to maintain their technology. They were seeking out a much simpler way of life."

"When Thread first began to fall," Ryeena spoke up, "the Ancients created the dragons as a living, renewable way to counter the threat."

"'Dragons must fly… when Thread is in the sky!'" I finished, reciting the lines from one of the Teaching ballads.

Looking about at everyone gathered in the room, I told them, "Dragons and their riders were created to protect _**ALL**_ of Pern from the ravages of Thread. That was and is your most sacred trust and duty. But what did you do with the Exiles?"

Silence.

"You turned your backs on them," I went on, sweeping everyone with my gaze. "Abandoned them to the horrors of that space-borne parasite."

I faced F'lar. "Can you honestly tell me _**that**_ is a punishment anyone should endure, no matter how heinous the crime?"

"My sister," Key spoke, turning me to face him, "are you telling me these 'exiles' were left to deal with this Thread… without any sort of protection?!"

I didn't say a word, but the look in my eyes made Key back up, tears sliding down his face.

"In some of the galactic court systems, Weyrleader," I quietly spoke as I turned to face him, "the dragonriders could've been arrested and tried as criminals for what you all did."

That fact rocked Mnementh's rider back on his heels, his face turning white as a sheet.

"First, they were banished, stripped of everything that was important to them," I spoke into the silence that followed. "Then, to add insult to injury, the Dragonriders abandoned the Exiles to the ravages of Thread. Small wonder their feelings of confusion and loss turned into a raging hatred of the very thing that was meant to protect them."

Silent as a ghost, Kara came up to me, tears pouring down her face. Then, wrapping me up in a very tight hug, she whispered, "At least one dragonrider remembered. Thank you!"

I turned to the gathered weyrfolk, their expressions a mix of anger, regret, but mostly of pain… the pain of suddenly grasping the truth.

"There is a fall over the Eastern Islands tomorrow starting at 0700 local time," I said, sweeping the room with my gaze. "Tarnaa and I intend to be there to fly the Fall."

"Out of the question!" F'lar exploded, stepping in front of me. "I forbid it!"

"And how will you stop me, Weyrleader?" I nonchalantly inquired. "Tie me up? Lock me away someplace? Sit on me? In case you've forgotten, my kidnappers already tried that."

For several long seconds, we faced each other, then…

"Wirenth and I will go with you, Sis," Brekke said, coming up to give me a hug.

"What?!" F'lar exclaimed. "Now wait just a minute!"

"So will Canth and I," F'nor added, joining us.

"If you will have us, Masterhealer," Lessa spoke, coming over, "then Benden Weyr will fly with you!"

"Lessa?!" F'lar stammered, staring at his weyrmate.

"She's right, my love," Lessa quietly responded. "We did abandon our sacred duty… to protect _**all**_ of Pern from Thread. And we very nearly paid the ultimate price for our folly. We have to try and make amends for that."

 _Southern Weyr stands ready to fly with you, Masterhealer,_ a familiar voice spoke in my head.

Lessa, Brekke, and I all gasped when we realized who it was.

"Did you…" Lessa stammered.

I shook my head, too in shock for words.

 _Ista Weyr will also fly with you, Dana,_ a second dragon voice spoke.

"What's going on?" F'lar demanded.

 _N'ton says Fort Weyr will join you, friend Dana,_ yet another dragon spoke to me.

I was so stunned by what was happening that Kara had to help me to a nearby stool.

"Southern Weyr, Ista Weyr, and Fort Weyr will all be flying the fall," Lessa reported, eyes bulging in disbelief.

"What?! How? Did you call them?" F'lar demanded of me.

 _She did not need to,_ Mnementh informed his rider.

 _We have been able to hear her thoughts from the moment she arrived on Pern,_ Ramoth chimed in.

"Her rebirth as Tarnaa's rider only made her thoughts that much clearer," Brekke chimed in. "By the Egg of Faranth, Dana!"

"So many…" I whispered, my thoughts reeling.

Suddenly, I straightened, standing to face F'lar and Lessa.

"We'll need a large place to meet," I began.

"The Hatching Grounds," Lessa finished for me. "It should be large enough."

"Heth, Laneth, Lioth," I spoke aloud and sent at the same time, "bring your riders to Benden Weyr's Hatching ground. We'll meet there!"

 _We're on our way!_ Heth reported.

 _We come, friend!_ Laneth added.

"Lioth!"

 _Dana?_

"Ask N'ton to bring Masterharpers Sebell and Menolly," I told my bronze Fort friend. "We'll need their assistance, as well."

 _N'ton says no problem!_

"Ruth?"

 _Yes, Dana?_ the little white dragon instantly responded.

"Please bring Lord Jaxom and Lady Sharra to Benden Weyr's Hatching grounds," I explained, glancing about at all the riders gathered around me. "I will need their assistance, as well."

 _Understood, Masterhealer,_ Jaxom's lifemate replied. _We will be there shortly._

"Ch'hin?"

"Ch'har?" I replied, turning to Keymon.

"If you wish, we can speak with Captain Morgan," Key said, laying a hand on my shoulder. "The Wolfhound's weaponry may be useful in mitigating some of the spores before they enter the atmosphere."

"Federation law may tie his hands, my friend," I replied, returning the gesture. "Once a colony has existed for a millennia, it becomes an independent entity, no longer subject to Federation law." Smiling, I added, "But if they feel like assisting an old comrade, then I won't object. Any help will be appreciated!"

"Consider it done!" Dav chimed in, laying his hand on my other shoulder.

"Sounds like I better get the kitchen staff going," Manora chuckled as she hurried off.

"Get going, you two," I said, grinning at my two Federation friends as I slipped on my commlink headset. "I'll be waiting for your call."

Dav and Key quickly departed, each grinning from ear to ear.

Then, as I turned back around, I suddenly found a fist directly in front of me, barely touching my nose.

"I wouldn't stop you if you did," I quietly told F'lar.

For a moment, it looked like he might take me up on my offer, but…

"I was furious with you for that," he grumbled, slowly lowering his clenched fist. "But I have to admit… You were right, Dana."

"Weyrleader, I…"

"Don't you dare go apologizing, young lady," he chuckled, grinning down at me. "By the Egg of Faranth, I bless the very moment you decided to seek Pern out. If not for you, the outcome of this sad page of our history may well have turned out very differently."

"F'lar, I…"

"You've saved countless lives since your arrival on our world," he went on, smiling as he laid his hand gently on my trembling shoulder. "We'd be honored to fly with you in the morning!"

Tears fell from my eyes as I nodded my thanks.

"Angel Zero One, this is Wolfhound, come in!"

"Go ahead, Wolfhound," I spoke into my comm unit's mike.

"Our high-rez bioscanners are picking up traces of humanoid lifeforms in the canyon!"

"What?! You're certain?"

"What's going on?" Brekke asked, anxious about my sudden agitation.

"99.7 percent probability, Angel Zero One," Wolfhound radioed.

"By my ancestors!" I whispered, turning white as a sheet.

"Dana, what's wrong?" F'nor asked, giving my shoulder a shake.

I pushed past him, seeking out my fellow healer.

"Ryeena, get back to the Healer Hall!" I told her, drawing my blaster. "Mobilize the triage teams! I'll call you when I have exact coordinates!"

"Coordinates? For what?" F'lar wondered as I hurried past him out of the Living Cavern.

"There may be survivors of the canyon Fall!" I shouted before winking _between_!


	38. Chapter 38 - Mended Ways

_**Chapter 38**_

 _ **Mended Ways**_

I 'landed' from _between_ on the ridge overlooking the canyon, returning to the very spot I'd watched the doomed Exile assault force march up the canyon. Blaster at the ready, I quickly checked my surroundings for any sign of Thread but found none. A heartbeat later, first Goldie then Tarnaa popped out of _between_ , circling overhead.

"Wolfhound, Angel Zero One," I radioed, holstering my blaster before pulling out the Yokohama's scanner control pad. "I'm overlooking the canyon. Do you have my position?"

"Affirmative, Angel," the Wolfhound comm officer replied. "We have you approximately 200 meters northeast of the sensor hit."

"Copy that," I responded, putting the control pad away before diving off the ledge.

Tarnaa appeared beneath me. I clipped my belt into her harness, and, together, we headed toward the location of the sensor hit.

Reaching the designated spot, Tarnaa quickly landed and I dismounted.

Not far away, a large runner carcass was hidden behind a boulder. Massive chunks of it had been consumed by Thread, but, judging by the ash swirling in the breeze, some local fire lizards had been busy dispatching what Thread they could.

A moan from beneath the fallen runner instantly brought my blaster out of its holster, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end in the same breath! Slowly, I made my way around the runner's mutilated form, discovering a still living human pinned beneath it!

"Angel Zero One, Wolfhound."

"Go, Wolfhound," I radioed back, holstering my blaster.

"Scanners showing you right on top of the humanoid readings we detected."

"My thanks, Wolfhound," I acknowledged. "I'm with the survivor now."

As I knelt to examine the victim, he turned his ash covered face my way.

"I don't need your help," he grunted, the hatred plain in his eyes.

"Too bad," I responded. "If I don't try to save you, Kara would never forgive me."

Yep. The survivor the Wolfhound had detected, the one pinned beneath the dead runner, was Kara's father!

"A guilty conscience, Master Healer?" he grunted, grinning maliciously.

"Not in the least," I said, waving for Tarnaa to come over.

I would need the first aid kit she was carrying.

"Wolfhound, Angel Zero One."

"Go ahead."

"Who are you talking to?" Kara's Da demanded.

"The Federation Vessel Wolfhound," I replied, grabbing my med kit from Tarnaa's harness. "My two friends, Dav and Key, are currently assigned to it."

"Wolfhound," I radioed, setting my kit on the ground next to the wounded man, "were there any other sensor hits in the canyon?"

"Sensor hits?" Kara's Da growled. "What are you on about?"

"That's a negative, Angel Zero One," I heard in my headset. "We fine-tuned the scan. Looks like you've got the only survivor."

"Copy, Wolfhound," I radioed back as I opened my medkit. "My thanks for the assist."

Tears were rolling down my face as I started to work on Kara's Da.

"I said leave me be!" he demanded, batting my hands away.

"You're the only survivor," I whispered, setting my things aside. Turning to my lifemate, I asked, "Tarnaa, can you lift the runner off him?"

Silently, my great golden queen ever so gingerly lifted the dead runner off of Kara's Da and set it with great reverence off to one side.

 _This one was innocent,_ she quietly rumbled, her eyes shading to a mournful orange. _It should not have had to die._

 _If they had listened to me from the beginning, my heart,_ I silently told her as I patted her on the neck, _they would all still be alive._

Goldie gently landed on my shoulder, thrumming her sorrow over the tragedy as she headstroked my cheek.

"You tricked us into coming this way," Kara's Da hissed as he struggled to stand. "Led us to believe there would be no Threadfall. Murderer!"

A short, mirthless chuckle escaped my lips.

"That's funny coming from you," I muttered, shaking my head, "given the devastation that would've been wrought and the countless innocent lives that would've been lost if your plans had succeeded."

"We'll find another way," Kara's Da growled, stumbling against a rock. "This isn't over. We'll have our revenge!"

"No, Da, you won't," Kara cut in, stepping out from around Tarnaa.

Jaxom's lifemate was right behind her.

"Ruth?" I wondered, meeting Kara's gaze.

"When you vanished from Benden," she explained, patting the little white dragon on the neck, "Ruth here was kind enough to give me a ride."

"Bet that surprised Lord Jaxom!" I chuckled. "My thanks, Ruth, to you and your rider!"

Then, Kara quietly and with great courage stepped over to her father.

"It's over, Da," she quietly informed him.

"Never," he growled, backing away from her touch. "Not until every single dragonrider who abandoned us is dead!"

"Three full weyrs of dragons will be flying the Fall over the islands in the morning, Da," Kara quietly explained. "And it was Masterhealer Dana who finally made them understand their folly."

"Lies!" Kara's Da spat, dismissing his daughter's words with a wave of his hand. "My own child turned against me. Why should I believe anything you would tell me?"

"Because it is the truth," N'ton broke in, appearing from behind Tarnaa, his bronze Lioth close by. "Even now, the dragonriders are meeting at Benden Weyr to plan out how we can best deal with the Threadfall."

"More lies!" Kara's Da growled, glaring at the Fort rider.

"Southern Weyr will also be flying the Fall," K'van remarked, he and his bronze Heth joining the growing crowd. "Masterhealer Dana realized our experience flying Fall over the Southern Continent would give the Northern riders valuable knowledge and assistance with how best to fly the Fall over the Eastern Islands tomorrow."

"Once the morning Fall has been dealt with," Masterharper Sebell explained to Kara's Da as he, too, appeared from behind Tarnaa, "we will be holding a meeting with all the Weyrleaders at the Harper Hall in order to work out how best to divvy up the Fall coverage over the Eastern Islands."

Smiling as he turned to me, he added, "And we'll be working on plans to keep the citizenry of Pern informed about what's going on!"

"As Lord Holder of Robinton Cove," I spoke, "I intend to address the Lords Holder conclave in an effort to bring an end to the exile of the Eastern Islanders."

"Dragons don't fly Fall over the Islands," Kara's Da snorted. "They never have!"

"That will change at 0700 hours tomorrow morning," I told him as I closed my med kit. "I would like your help getting the word out."

Kara's Da laughed, waving dismissal of the idea.

"Then I will help you," Kara offered, taking my hand.

"And what good could you possibly do, girl?" Kara's Da scoffed, grinning derisively. "You are an exile among the Exiles. They won't listen to you!"

"I have to try, Da," she replied, her jaw grimly set. "The winds of change are blowing strongly now. I intend to be there to see it fulfilled!"

That said, Kara's Da was escorted back to the Healer Hall under heavily armed escort to continue his recovery and to await trial.

A thorough search of the canyon was made, but, sadly, no further survivors were found. That task completed, we returned to Benden Weyr to begin planning the coming battle.

The first challenge… how to get word out to the inhabitants of the Eastern Islands. It was Kara who suggested a technique once used during one of Earth's world wars: leaflets… notes printed on paper and dropped from overflying dragons onto the population centers of the Eastern Islands.

Sebell sent out word immediately to every hold, hall, and weyr, asking for volunteers to assist with the printing and dissemination of the leaflets.

To my intense relief and pride, Kara took the lead, coordinating all phases of the effort.

In a show of support for his 'little sister', Key talked Captain Morgan into loaning a holomap projector and terminal to the planning team. With great enthusiasm, Captain Morgan personally assigned Dav and Key to man the device.

Thanks to the Wolfhound's hi-res bioscanners, the exact locations of every Exiles village was soon displayed and projected up onto one of the smoother and flatter walls of Benden Weyr's hatching ground for all to see.

"I like the leaflets approach," Kara explained, pointing to the newly added flight routes the dragon drop teams would be using, "but it may not be enough."

"We can include a walkie talkie at each drop site," Mastersmith Fandarel suggested, holding up one of the newer lightweight devices his teams had just finished producing. "That way, we can talk to the residents directly."

"If they know how to use the device," F'lar moaned. Then, chuckling, he added, "They may just decide to smash another of the Ancient's thrice-cursed devices."

Fandarel looked appalled, clutching the device to his chest.

"Master Fandarel, do we have enough for each of the villages?" Kara asked, laying a hand on his massive arm.

The burly smith nodded. "Just."

"Then I will take one and deliver it to my village myself," Kara went on, holding out her hand.

With a reluctant nod, Fandarel surrendered the walkie talkie into Kara's hands.

"Master Sebell, how long until the leaflets are ready?" she asked the Masterharper.

"Printing them out would take too much time," he explained, smiling as he laid a hand on Kara's slim shoulder. "We don't have enough of the Ancients' printers yet. So, I sent out a call to every hold, hall, and weyr for volunteers to write them out by hand. We should have a sufficient supply ready for delivery within the hour!"

"That'll give us about two hours of daylight over the islands this afternoon to get the leaflets dispersed," I concluded, gesturing to the holomap. "K'van, N'ton, G'dened, can your teams get it done before we run out of daylight?" Seeing the smirk come to their faces, I added, "And I don't want to add the risk of dragons 'timing it' in order to pull this off."

"Timing it?" Key wondered, he and Dav turning to me for explanation.

Sighing, with a wan smile, I told them, "You're just gonna have to trust me on this one, guys."

Glancing at each other before turning back to me, they both smiled.

"You got it, boss," Dav said, giving my shoulder a thump.

As promised, Master Sebell and his team of dragonriders arrived with the hand-written leaflets the teams would disperse over the Eastern Islands.

Grabbing a small handful as the rest were being distributed to the drop riders, Kara whispered to me, "Let's go."

Tarnaa was waiting just outside. Once Kara and I had our riding belts fastened, we climbed up my lifemate's foreleg and settled into position on her neck ridge. A quick snap of the fastening hooks and we were set to go. To my surprise and Kara's, Goldie landed on Kara's shoulder, nuzzling her cheek as she twined her tail about the girl's neck.

"Seems you've made a friend, Kara," I chuckled, giving her other shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Let's do this! Tarnaa, aloft!"

With a powerful push of her hind legs, my lifemate was instantly airborne, her wings beating strongly, lifting us higher and higher.

 _I have the location_ , Tarnaa informed me.

 _From who?_ I asked, more than a little curious.

My dragon didn't reply, just chuckled and took us _between!_

Seconds later, we materialized right above the clearing at Kara's village… the same one where she and her Da had begun their journey to Fort Hold!

 _Did you just…_

 _You opened her heart when you helped her find the truth,_ Tarnaa rumbled.

Goldie merely snorted, staying close to Kara.

"We need to let them know we're here," Kara had to shout over the wind rush.

I didn't say a word, but Tarnaa responded by letting loose a deafening roar.

 _Just letting the felines know we're here,_ my dragon absently remarked.

 _Yeah, I'll just bet,_ I chuckled.

Kara was never going to believe this!

Just as Tarnaa was settling into the clearing, the villagers emerged, once more; brandishing their weapons. Before I could stop her, Kara had undone her riding belt and was sliding down Tarnaa's side with all the apparent ease of a skilled dragonrider!

"You!" one of the villagers growled, hefting his club. "You turned your back on us!"

"Dragons are flying the Eastern Islands fall tomorrow," Kara responded, brandishing the leaflets.

"Lies!" another villager spat, raising his spear.

Before he could throw it, my blaster beam shot out, knocking the weapon out of his hand.

"Hey, Kara didn't come alone," I quietly spoke as I slid down Tarnaa's side to the ground. "But if you'd all rather be like the Terran ostrich and bury your heads in the ground rather than listen to the truth…"

"Truth?! From you?!" another scoffed, spitting in the dirt.

Kara tossed the walkie-talkie she was carrying to the one now without his spear.

"Three full weyrs of dragons will be flying the fall tomorrow starting at 0700 local time," she informed them, flinging the leaflets at the feet of her fellow villagers. "Each village will also be given one of those walkie-talkies. The queens' wings will be flying low cover, searching for any Thread that might get through. They will also be carrying their own walkie-talkies, monitoring for any village's call for assistance."

"I'll believe it when I see it," yet another grumbled.

"Then I recommend you get a good night's sleep," I suggested, steering Kara back over to Tarnaa's patiently extended foreleg. "You're in for quite a show!"

"What's that?" someone gasped, pointing skyward.

Turning, I saw beams of light streaking across the skies, bright flashes of light marking the deaths of Thread spores.

"My comrades from the Federation Star Service," I replied as Kara got into position on Tarnaa's neck ridge. "They are using their vessel's weapons to destroy some of the Thread spores before they fall on Pern tomorrow."

With a quick leap and well-placed foot, I was quickly astride Tarnaa behind Kara.

"As the new Lord Holder of Robinton Cove," I explained as I clipped into Tarnaa's riding harness, "I will be speaking at the Lords Holder conclave soon to see about bringing an end to your exile."

"Yeah, I'll just bet," one of the women scoffed, brushing dust from her sleeve.

"Once the conclave is over," I responded as Tarnaa readied to depart, "we will send riders to drop leaflets letting you know the outcome."

"Wait!" one woman begged, dropping her weapon as she drew closer. "Our menfolk. Can you tell us what happened to them?"

"If they were part of the assault teams on Fort Hold, Benden Weyr, or Landing," Kara responded, leaning down so she could speak more clearly to the woman, "then they are alive and well."

"What about those sent to Ruatha?" a second woman asked, also dropping her weapon.

"Kara's Da was the only survivor," I quietly replied, tears coming to my eyes. "I am truly sorry. If they had heeded my warning, they, too, would still be alive."

"They're dead?!" a third woman gasped, joining the other two. "How?"

Meeting my gaze, Kara responded, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"What does that mean?" a fourth woman asked, leaving her weapon behind.

"We only had enough people to fly Fall and protect three of the four targets," Kara explained when I faltered. "So, we tricked the Ruathan attackers into believing there wouldn't be any Threadfall in the canyon they chose as their attack route."

"What?!" nearly half of the gathered villagers gasped, weapons clattering to the ground.

Glancing back at me, Kara added, "Dana tried to warn them off, tried to get them to abandon the attack. But they didn't listen. They were too consumed by hatred and a thirst for revenge." Gulping back a knot in her stomach, Kara finished by saying, "So they, in turn, were consumed by Thread."

Many of the women broke into tears, sobbing, holding onto each other. The men just stood there silently, weapons dangling at their sides.

Without a word from either of us, Tarnaa took off, soaring high into the humid Eastern Islands sky. Then, in the blink of an eye, she took us _between_.

We emerged above Glory Escarpment, settling to the ground in a small cloud of dust. But Kara and I were too upset to notice, the two of us weeping at the senseless loss.

 _You did what you had to do, lifemate,_ Tarnaa hummed, craning her head around to rub her muzzle against my tear-stained face.

"If only they had turned away," Kara sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "It's so senseless!"

Tarnaa switched off, gently nuzzling Kara's shoulder.

 _You were just as brave, young one,_ my lifemate remarked, _facing and accepting the truth._

"Thank you," Kara wept, giving Tarnaa's muzzle a brief hug.

Startled out of my sorrow by what had just happened, I stared at Kara. Then, having recovered my wits, my heart racing, I silently called a few dragon friends. Moments later, T'bor on Orth and Jaxom on Ruth dropped to the ground next to us on Glory Escarpment.

"You two alright?" T'bor solicitously inquired, clearly noting the trail of tears down both our faces.

"Plenty of pain just now as we informed Kara's village about the canyon Threadfall," I managed to whisper, clutching Kara's shoulders in my hands. "But I think we have some joyous news for them, as well."

"What do you mean?" Kara wondered, turning to look at me.

"We may well have just found the first Eastern Islands dragonrider candidate!" I sighed, hugging Kara tightly.

"Her?!" Jaxom gasped, pointing to Kara.

"Me?!" she squeaked, eyes popping from her skull.

"I need Orth's and Ruth's opinions on her candidacy potential," I gleefully declared, sliding down my dragon's side before offering my hand to Kara.

Nervously, Kara carefully slid down Tarnaa's side to stand next to me. The moment her feet hit the ground, Orth and Ruth were there, whuffling her up and down, their excitement growing the longer they examined her.

 _Strong heart!_ Orth concluded, glancing over at his rider.

 _She can hear dragons!_ Ruth announced, drawing a startled gasp from Kara.

Eyes popping, jaw dropping, Kara stared, first at Orth, then Ruth, and finally Tarnaa.

"I heard them!" she whispered, looking on the verge of screaming her head off. Then, with more enthusiasm, " **I HEARD THEM!** "

"What is it about you, Masterhealer?" T'bor chuckled, fists planted on his hips. "First it was Trillene, then Ryeena, and now this young one!"

I couldn't speak. I was too overjoyed at this discovery to do anything else but wrap Kara up in a great big bear hug!

"Oh, my stars!" Kara gasped, fresh tears… but this time, of joy… streaming down her face. "I never dreamed…"

I burst out laughing. "Lessa is going to have me Threaded for sure after this!"

Dragonrider teams were dispatched to deliver their paper cargo to the assigned Eastern Island villages. That night, back at Benden Weyr, the Weyrwoman did indeed have words for me… but in a joyous, happy tone!

Dav and Key put in an appearance, passing along their estimation of the Wolfhound's assault on the Thread spheroids. It was a marginal reduction, but F'lar and the other dragonriders were all enthusiasticly grateful for the assist.

"Even with our hi-res sensors maxed out," Dav complained, gesturing at the upcoming Fall prediction map, "it was like trying to swat a grain of sand from halfway across the galaxy!"

"I'm sure you guys did all you could to help out," I told them, giving each a hug. "Please be sure to thank Captain Morgan and the rest of his crew. We really appreciate everything you've done!"

The next morning, precisely at 0700 over the Eastern Islands, the Fall began. And, right on cue, three full wings of dragons and riders appeared in the skies over the Eastern Islands, determined to take the first step in righting such an egregious wrong.

Not far away, keeping to the edge of the Fall, Dav and Key in their shuttlecraft were busy recording the battle and taking innumerable sensor readings in an effort to document something only the Pernese citizens had ever seen before.

Surprisingly, during the Fall, the queens' wings actually received several calls on the walkie-talkies from the Islanders informing them of Thread that had gotten through. All Thread burrows were immediately and ruthlessly incinerated!

When the Fall was finally over, Kara and I returned to her village… and were greeted with some grudgingly given cheers and applause for the Dragonriders' efforts.

"Guess you was telling the truth," one of the village elders spoke, briefly nodding to me.

"You will speak to the conclave?" another wondered, glancing around at the others. "About ending our exile?"

"I will be here personally the day Master Idarolan and his fleet arrive to take you back home," I promised, shaking his hand.

"What if some of us don't want to leave?" one woman asked, her expression full of concern.

"A possibility, certainly," I responded, glancing about at the crowd, trying to gauge how many felt that way. "If it comes to that, then it will require a meeting of all the villages on the Islands."

"A meeting?" another villager wondered.

"Yes, to discuss the establishment of a weyr here in the islands," I said, "in order to provide you with protection from Thread until this Pass is over."

"Due to the nature of Thread, the dragonriders do not have the time necessary to grow their own food," Kara explained, picking up the narrative. "They are totally dependent on tithing from the holds to supply their needs. In return, the dragonriders provide the holders with protection from Thread."

"And, if it becomes necessary to establish an Eastern Island weyr," I said, smiling as I laid a hand on Kara's shoulder, "young Kara here will most likely be your first queen candidate!"

"What?!" many of the villagers exclaimed.

"She can hear dragons," I went on, giving Kara a hug, "a talent that will serve her immeasurably as a dragonrider!"

At that precise moment, I felt a brief episode of dizziness… just like the one I'd had that day at Ruatha when I'd spotted my transformed self standing next to Masterharper Robinton at the back of the crowd during my performance of "Keymon's Song".

The conclusion was inescapable! I had 'timed it'… again! The spell passed as quickly as it had come, but I was still confused. What was going on? Conversation around me broke through the confusion.

A woman had come forward, was speaking to Kara.

"Your Ma," the woman quietly spoke, eyes averted. "She was always arguing against revenge… siding with the dragonriders."

The woman looked up then, tears in her eyes as she gave Kara an unexpected hug. "Seeing you now is like looking at a younger version of her. If only your Ma had lived to see the brave young woman you've become!"

Sobbing, Kara returned the hug.

"Kara?"

Eyes like saucers, Kara whirled, staring at a new arrival standing at the edge of the clearing.

"It can't be!" Kara gasped, hands covering her mouth.

Seeing the new arrival, the other villagers all gasped, backing away as the woman came closer. The moment the two women stood face to face, I knew who she was.

"You're Kara's mother!" I exclaimed, glancing back and forth between the two, the familial resemblance undeniable.

"How is this possible?" Kara whispered, her hand oh so lightly caressing the tear-stained cheek of her mother. "You don't look any older than when I was seven!"

Hands trembling, Kara's mother raised her own hands to gently touch her child's tear-soaked cheeks.

"Can this really be you, Kara?" the woman whispered, gently stroking Kara's face. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen," Kara sobbed, her expression undecided between hugging her mother… or running screaming!

"Did I 'time it'?" Kara's mother wondered, glancing around. "Like Lessa did when she brought the five missing weyrs forward through time?"

"I heard you scream!" Kara wailed, deciding in that moment that this wasn't a dream; wrapping her mother up in a bone-creaking desperate hug. "I thought the Thread got you!"

"Just as I pushed you into that cave," Kara's mother sobbed, returning the desperate hug, "something grabbed me from behind. I thought it was Thread. Suddenly, everything went dark and cold…"

" _Between!_ " Kara hissed, pulling back to stare at her mother.

"The next thing I knew I was standing at the edge of the clearing!" Kara's mother wept, pointing behind her.

"Ma!" Kara whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks as she once more hugged her mother.

As I watched this most incredible and joyous reunion, I felt chills running up and down my spine. First, it was that incident at Ruatha. Now here in the Eastern Islands. Two separate instances where clearly I had 'timed it', and yet, I hadn't… at least not yet, and that scared me more than anything! It was all I could do to keep my knees from shaking!

"Ma, you won't believe it!" Kara gleefully declared as she once more pulled back to look at her mother.

"What, sweetling?" her mother wondered.

"I can hear dragons!" Kara replied, the broadest grin ever on her face. "Just like Lessa!"

"Are you serious?!" Kara's Ma exclaimed, eyes lighting up.

Kara nodded. "Masterhealer Dana was the one who first realized it," she explained, gesturing to me. "She's been such a good friend to me. I don't know how I can possibly thank her for everything she's done!"

"For now, Kara, take care of your mother," I responded, laying a hand on each of their shoulders. "We'll figure out the rest later!"

Mother and daughter hugged once more, their happy tears mingling together.

For the time being, I kept my own counsel, choosing instead to enjoy this most precious of heartfelt reunions. But I held no illusions about the gravity of what I would soon be facing!


	39. Chapter 39 - Cleaning Up

Chapter 39

 _Cleaning Up_

The sun was just rising; the wind and waves peacefully calm. A perfect excuse to get some much-needed exercise. Pleased with the effort as he finished his morning swim, Robinton made his way back to shore. To his surprise, someone was there waiting for him.

"Who…" he began, wiping his face to clear the sea water from his eyes.

The stranger was holding up a towel for him; a broad, beaming smile on her face as he approached.

"How was your swim?" I asked.

"DANA?!" Robinton gasped, staggering back a step in surprise.

"Here," I chuckled as I threw the towel over his shoulders. "You'll catch your death!"

"By the First Egg!" Robinton exclaimed, toweling off as he stared at me. "What are you doing here, child? Did anyone see you?"

"No," I assured him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "I asked the local fire lizards to keep an eye out for me and to warn me if anyone comes near."

"Tarnaa?"

"Back at the weyr," I replied, smiling assurances. "I came alone."

"Quickly, inside!" Robinton directed, taking me by the elbow and heading into his house.

Once he'd had a chance to change into some comfortable clothes, Robinton rejoined me in the living room. He found me sitting on the couch, Zair crooning with delight as I scratched his eye ridges.

"Dana, child, I am pleased beyond words to see you again," Robinton spoke, pouring himself a glass of juice then offering me one of my own. Plopping down in the chair opposite me, he added, "And yet, given how you went on about altering the future, I'm surprised to find you here!"

"Dear Master Robinton," I said, a solitary tear sliding down my cheek, "did you think I would pass up the opportunity to properly thank you for your most wondrous and generous gift?"

"Gift? What…"

"Your will."

"My will?!" Robinton stammered, nearly dropping the juice he was sipping. "I only just finished the damned thing yesterday!"

"And it will remain hidden and unknown in AIVAS' memory circuits," I spoke, wiping the tear from my cheek, "until my return to Benden Weyr many Turns from now."

"Which will no doubt seem like only a few minutes for you," Robinton chuckled, lifting his glass in a salute, "thanks to the effects of 'timing it'."

I nodded.

"I appreciate your sentiment, Masterhealer," he spoke, taking another sip of his juice, "but you should not have returned."

"I had no choice."

"Why?"

"Because of an incident that occurred at a Ruathan gather in the time before my transformation."

"What sort of incident?" Robinton wondered, leaning closer.

"While I was still the old me," I explained, meeting his gaze, "Ryeena, her family, and I were invited to a Gather at Ruatha Hold."

"Go on."

"While at the Gather, Jaxom invited me up on stage so that I could sing 'Keymon's Song' for the assembled crowd."

"Ah, that must've been quite a sight!" Robinton chuckled, taking another sip of his juice.

"Oddly enough, just as I started to sing, a strange sort of dizziness swept over me. Thanks to Master Shonagar's teachings, I managed to temporarily push the feeling aside."

"Dizziness, you say?"

I nodded.

"As the song was ending, I spotted a young woman and an elderly man in a cloak at the back of one of the Gather stalls," I went on. "Funny thing was… when the song ended, the dizziness vanished… and so had the young woman and the elderly man!"

"Coincidence, perhaps," Robinton suggested.

"Not this time," I replied, my expression coldly serious.

"Explain."

"You already know my story right up to the time of our first meeting, Master Robinton."

"Yes," he acknowledged, nodding, "thanks to the Lessa from your time."

"The moment I returned to Benden in my time, I was summoned to Landing because AIVAS had shut down all access to its facilities."

"Ah, it is good to know," Robinton sighed, finishing off his juice, "that the precautions I put in place with AIVAS worked and were effective."

"You had given me such an amazing and humbling gift, dear Master Robinton," I said, smiling warmly at him. "At first, I was uncertain if I had the right to accept it, to violate the shrine your home had become."

"This?!" Robinton scoffed, waving a dismissal.

"Goldie, my fire lizard, settled the confusion, winging through the open door of your home," I went on, meeting his gaze. "The place was well kept, immaculate. I wandered back to the bedroom… the same one I had rested in following my head banging episode with Ramoth."

"That was quite an impact!" Robinton chuckled.

"I don't know why I did it, but I laid down on the bed and fell asleep almost instantly."

"Given your 'timing' and that knock to your head," Robinton remarked, laying a long finger of his hand along his jaw, "I'm not that surprised."

"While I slept, I had several dreams about you."

"Me?" Robinton wondered, Zair chirruping in concert.

I nodded.

"Three in all," I explained, tears once more forming in my eyes. "In the first, I was your apprentice, studying under your guiding hand back at the Harper Hall."

"Ah, if only, my dear," Robinton chuckled, patting my hand.

"In the second, you were standing on the shore, watching as Ryeena and I flew off on our dragons to help an injured Pernese out at sea; a pod of dolphins our surface escort."

"That would've been a truly inspiring sight, my dear."

"The final dream, though, is why I'm here."

Robinton said nothing, but his worried gaze spoke volumes.

"From the moment I set out to find Pern, Master Robinton," I explained, somehow meeting his worried gaze, "I have been experiencing what I can only call premonitions, glimpses of things I would see and experience here on Pern."

"Premonitions?!" he exclaimed, suddenly leaning forward. "You mean, you can see the future?"

I nodded.

"My instructors back at the Star Service Academy called it precognition," I explained, wincing as I recalled. "Every member of the Star Service is thoroughly tested for any sort of psionic ability, precognition being one such talent. Telepathy, the ability to communicate mind-to-mind is another of these talents."

"What the dragonriders use to speak to their lifemates!" Robinton responded.

"I failed every screening test I was subjected to," I went on, wringing my hands. "At times, it had been so grueling and excruciating…"

"And yet, the moment I set out to find Pern," I explained, meeting Robinton's gaze, "the dreams started. Only later did I finally realize they were actually precognitive glimpses of things I would experience here on Pern."

"This has to do with that final dream, doesn't it?" Robinton concluded.

I nodded again.

"You and I were attending a Gather at Ruatha," I began, meeting his gaze. "We were standing near the back of the Gather stalls as a performer mounted the stage to sing."

Robinton's eyes grew larger.

"When the performer turned our way, I realized it was my old self!"

"By the First Egg!" Robinton hissed.

"Back then, I had no idea what you looked like. But that all changed the moment I 'timed it' back to Cove Hold."

Given the look on Master Robinton's face, he was more than a little concerned.

"The young woman and the elderly gentleman you saw that day at Ruatha…" Robinton whispered, his eyes suddenly growing enormous.

"Was really my transformed self and you!" I finished for him. "The dizziness I felt was the time stream's way of warning me that the same person from two different times cannot exist in the same place!"

Robinton leaned back, staring at me with positively enormous eyes, Zair perched on his shoulder chittering nervously. For a long moment, the Masterharper just stared in wonder at me.

"You are certain of this?" he finally asked, slowly leaning closer.

All I could manage in reply was a tiny nod.

"I see," Robinton quietly spoke, rubbing his chin, Zair chirruping worriedly as he shifted to his perch on the back of the chair.

"It won't be like Lessa's journey back to bring the five weyrs forward," I explained, staring out the window. "Our journey across Time will be a lot shorter."

Looking up at him, I added, "I also brought heavy riding furs to protect us from the cold of _between_ plus supplemental oxygen equipment so we won't suffer from hypoxia on the trip."

Robinton and I sat there for several moments, the only sound coming from the waves down at the shore.

"I can't force you to do this, Master," I said, tears trickling down my cheeks. "It has to be your choice."

"And if we don't go?"

"The time line will alter. Mine will most certainly be affected, but by how much I have no way of knowing."

"It will also have a cascading effect on the rest of Pern," I went on, meeting Robinton's gaze. "Each person I came in contact with will be affected to varying degrees by the change in my time line. Like ripples on a pond when the surface is disturbed."

"I see."

Robinton's expression was grim as he regarded me; one that slowly warmed and changed to a pleased smile.

"My dear Masterhealer," he quietly said, taking my trembling hands in his, "your value to the future of Pern, especially the inestimable value of your healing skills is well worth protecting. I will be honored to go with you!"

"Master, thank you," I replied, squeezing his hands gratefully.

"There is still the matter of how we will get there," he remarked, glancing about. "Which reminds me… you said Tarnaa was back at the Weyr, that you came alone."

I nodded.

"Then how did you get here? Did someone bring you?"

Shaking my head, I stood, pulling Robinton to his own feet.

"Do you trust me?"

Robinton searched my face, my eyes before finally nodding. In the next breathtaking moment, the two of us were standing on the sands of the beach at Cove Hold!

"By the First Egg!" Robinton gasped, whirling to stare around him. "What… how…" His gaze finally fixed squarely on me. "The cold! The darkness! We went _between_?!"

Grinning at his surprise, I nodded.

"But how?"

"It appears, dear Master Robinton," I explained, trying hard not to giggle at his surprise, "that I inherited something far more draconic from Wirenth than just my eyes!"

"Wait! What?! You don't mean…"

I was grinning from ear-to-ear, nodding enthusiastically in reply.

"My word!" Robinton gasped, having difficulty wrapping his head around the idea. Finally, swallowing nervously, he asked, "Does anyone else know about this?"

"My assistant, Ryeena, and the Benden Weyrleaders," I replied, turning and walking Robinton back to his home. "No one else."

We barely cleared the doorway before Zair came swooping about us, chittering hysterically about Robinton's sudden disappearance.

"Oh, I'm alright, you great screeching buffoon," Robinton playfully remarked once Zair had landed on his shoulder to receive an eye ridge scratch. "And here I thought all I had to look forward to was just another boring day!"

Turning to me, he smiled, saying, "We'd best be going!"

Retreating to his bedroom, Master Robinton soon returned with the very cloak I'd seen him wearing that Gather Day.

"We'd best leave the furs and that oxygen whatchamacallit here," he spoke as he slipped into the cloak.

"But…" I began to protest.

"The heavy furs and that gear will only serve to draw attention to us," he cautioned, flicking the cloak's hood up over his head. "When you spotted us at the back of the Gather stalls, were we wearing them?"

I searched my memories of that incident, then gasped, looking straight at the Masterharper.

"Zair, I need you to stay here and keep an eye on the place," Robinton addressed his fire lizard friend.

The little bronze gave a mournful trill but remained where he was.

"Now, my dear," Robinton whispered, taking my trembling hands in his.

Seconds later, and years forward in Time, the two of us emerged from _between_ discreetly behind one of the Gather stalls in Ruatha just as the musicians began to play the intro to "Keymon's Song". The moment we appeared, the dizziness returned, but Robinton's firm yet gentle hand on my elbow kept me steady.

It was an eerie feeling reliving that moment, seeing my former self up on that stage, singing the song my Kendite brother had shared with me.

I heard Robinton's quiet gasp as the fire lizards picked up the song, triggering that dreamlike effect that seemed to lay at the heart of that musical wonder. He gasped even more loudly when the dragons joined in on the third verse.

"By the First Egg!" I heard Robinton whisper, knowing how deeply the magic of the song had touched him.

As the song reached its end and the crowd began their boisterous cheers and applause, I took one last look at my former self up on stage. Then, a solitary tear sliding down my cheek, I took Master Robinton's hands in mine and the two of us vanished _between_ , reappearing moments later on the beaches of Cove Hold back in the Masterharper's proper time.

"Master, are you alright?" I asked, pulling the hood back from his face.

He was a little pale, his hands trembling slightly. But the warmth of the sun and the sands seemed to bring him instantly back to life.

"Alright?!" Master Robinton happily exclaimed, picking me up in a bear hug and swinging me around. "I've never been more alive! Whoo hoo!"

"That's a relief!" I chuckled, planting a kiss on his cheek when he finally set me down.

A bronze rocket zipped out the door of Robinon's home, blurring about us in an excess of happiness.

"And here is Zair to be certain!" I laughed, giving the little rascal an eye ridge scratch once he'd landed on Robinton's upraised arm.

"Master Robinton, thank you," I said, giving him a hug. "For your courage, your wisdom, and your incredible generosity. I owe you a debt I can't possibly repay!"

"But you can, my dear," he argued, laying a gentle hand on my cheek. "By passing on your knowledge, both medical and otherwise, to the people of your time."

"I will, Master," I wept, hugging his hand to my cheek. "I promise!"

Releasing his hand, I turned toward the surf rushing ashore. Then, with one final backwards glance and wave, I vanished _between_!

"Take care, my dear," Robinton whispered, a solitary tear sliding down his cheek.

I still had one more loose end to tie up… on the Eastern Islands! Thanks to the many talks I'd had with Lord Jaxom, I'd learned how he had been able to locate his future wife, Sharra, lost across the abyss of Time, with the help of images gleaned from the memories of the fire lizards!

With Tarnaa's help, I had secretly visited the islands, spending time with the wild fire lizards there. Through them, I had finally located one specific memory, but my timing would have to be absolutely spot on to pull this next stunt off.

I'd also made use of AIVAS and the Threadfall records of seven Turns ago to precisely calculate when the Fall would occur. Between the fire lizards and the computer analysis, I knew precisely where… and when… I had to go.

Young Kara and her Ma never even noticed me as I popped out of _between_ directly behind them at that fateful moment.

Kara's Ma looked up, saw the Thread falling their way, and, instinctively, shoved her daughter into the shallow cave they'd found. That motion caused her to stagger backwards… right into me.

The instant I grabbed her, Kara's Ma screamed, no doubt believing it was Thread that had her. In that same moment, the two of us vanished _between_ , emerging seconds later… and years forward in Time… on the edge of their village's clearing. Once more, the dizziness assailed me. But rather than linger, I quickly released Kara's Ma then vanished back _between_.

Twice I had 'timed it', as Lessa put it. Because of my rather remarkable transformation and the dragon's ability to 'port that I had miraculously inherited from Wirenth, I now had the power to alter the very flow of Time, to literally change the course of history!

Now I fully understood what geas meant. My ability to 'time it' could be either a blessing or a curse... depending on how it was used. The enormity of the responsibility I now faced frightened me more deeply than anything I'd ever known! Only Time would tell if I had the wisdom to use it properly.

The tasks complete, I returned to my own time, popping out of _between_ in the middle of Benden's weyr bowl. It was a relief to be back in familiar surroundings. Goldie came winging over to greet me, caroling her elation at my return.

 _It is done?_ Tarnaa quietly rumbled as she came over to headstroke my face.

 _Yes, my heart_ , I just as quietly replied, giving her a muzzle hug and thump on the neck. _All is as it should be._

 _I wasn't worried_ , Tarnaa responded, adding her dragon version of a chuckle.

Together, we headed over to the entrance to the weyr's kitchen cavern. While Tarnaa and Goldie curled up outside, I made my way within.

Quiet celebrations were the order of the day. The Eastern Islands fall had been successfully dealt with. Plenty of quiet high fives echoed around the kitchen.

I was about to search for eating utensils when the kitchen headwoman, Felena, shoved a plate of piping hot food into my hands.

"Find a seat, Masterhealer," she chided me, a broad grin on her face, "if you can!"

She wasn't joking. Nearly everyone in the weyr was here!

Across the kitchen, I spotted Kara and her Ma quietly talking, giggling, sometimes laughing. It filled my heart with joy to see their happiness.

"Mind if I join you?" Lessa wondered, setting her own plate down as I was settling myself.

"Please," I replied, nodding as I picked up my fork.

"I get the feeling you had something to do with that," Lessa remarked, taking the seat across from me before nodding in Kara's direction.

"Just cleaning up a few loose ends," I said before stuffing a slice of meat into my mouth.

"What do you mean?" Lessa wondered, leaning closer.

"The time stream," I explained after taking a sip of some juice. "Right after the fall, at the moment Kara's Ma appeared at the edge of their village's clearing, I felt a brief moment of dizziness."

From the look of surprise and recognition in Lessa's eyes, I could tell she knew exactly what I was talking about.

"I've heard many riders describe that same feeling when they inadvertently 'time it' too close to themselves," I went on, finishing off a spoonful of my vegetables. "So, I knew what it meant. Ignoring it would've altered this time line… with potentially catastrophic results. I couldn't take that chance."

"Their people have been through a very great hardship," Lessa sighed, munching on some of her own food. "And if some of them don't want to leave their island home, then their new queen rider will need all the help and support she can get!"

"Weyrwoman?"

Lessa and I both looked up. Kara and her Ma were standing next to our table, anxious looks on their faces.

"Could we ask you something?" Kara nervously inquired.

"Of course," Lessa responded. "Please, have a seat."

Kara sat next to me, her Ma next to Lessa.

"How can I help you?" Lessa wondered, glancing from one to the other.

"It's about my Ma," Kara began.

"In what way?" Lessa wondered.

"We've all heard the story of how you went back through Time," Kara's Ma responded, glancing around the table, "to bring the five missing Weyrs forward to fight Thread."

"We understand it takes a dragon to 'time it'," Kara went on, nervously wringing her hands. "But that's where things get confusing."

"Go on," Lessa urged when Kara hesitated.

"Dragons are enormous!" Kara spoke, looking straight at Lessa. "Even Ruth, small as he is, would've been seen if he'd popped in at the clearing. But aside from Dana's queen, no one saw anything unusual when my Ma suddenly showed up!"

Reaching across the table, Kara took her Ma's hand in hers and asked, "So how did Ma 'time it'?"

For several seconds, it was silent at our table as Kara searched our faces. As she glanced at me, Kara suddenly gasped, eyes like saucers, her trembling hands covering her mouth.

"Sweetheart, what is it?" her Ma nervously inquired.

"Your eyes!" Kara whispered, her gaze searching my face. "Your… dragon eyes! Ancestors!"

"Kara,…" Lessa started to speak, but I raised my hand to cut her off.

"Go on, Kara," I urged her.

For nearly a minute, my Eastern Islands friend just stared at me before finally whispering, "That's how you were able to escape, isn't it?"

Smiling back, I nodded.

"You can go _between_! Just like a dragon!"

"What?!" Kara's Ma exclaimed, glancing back and forth between me and her daughter.

"You've a keen mind, Kara," I said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "And an even sharper insight. I'm impressed you were able to put the pieces of the puzzle together like that!"

"But how did you know where…" Kara whispered, "or when… to find us?"

"A little trick I picked up from Lord Jaxom and his lifemate, Ruth," I explained, adding a wink.

"The fire lizards!" Lessa exclaimed, staring at me. "Just like Sharra! Shells, Dana!"

"A rider who can go between… without a dragon?!" Kara's Ma whispered, clearly awed by the idea.

Slowly, I nodded.

"How?" was all Kara's Ma could get out.

"Are you sure you want to hear all the boring details?" I asked with a chuckle. "It's a pretty long story!"

For several seconds, Kara's Ma searched my face, my eyes. In the end, she merely shook her head, adding a tiny chuckle.

But then, she turned tortured eyes first to her daughter then to me before asking, "Why didn't you bring us both forward?"

Kara provided the answer. "It would've altered the future."

I nodded.

"What do you mean?" Lessa wondered, leaning closer.

"My Da has a fearsome temper," Kara admitted, ducking her head. Glancing over at her Ma, she added, "You know that."

Silently, reluctantly, Kara's Ma nodded.

"If we had both 'timed it'," Kara went on, "Da might've believed we had both died of Thread. It would've probably pushed him over the edge. He may well have killed Dana rather than just hold her prisoner."

"It's more than just that, Kara," I quietly added.

"Explain," Lessa requested.

"It was Kara who first alerted us to the calls over the Ancients' walkie talkies," I explained, giving my island friend's hand a squeeze. "From that simple act, we learned what the Exiles were planning to do. But if she had 'timed it' forward at the same moment as her Ma…"

"She wouldn't have existed at that critical moment!" Lessa exclaimed, wide-eyed as she stared at Kara.

"Even more importantly," I went on, giving Kara a hug, "if, as Kara suspects, her Da would've killed me rather than just hold me hostage, several things would've happened. Without Kara's warning about the clandestine radio calls, we would not have learned what the Exiles had been planning. And with me dead, they may well have succeeded in crashing the three Ancients' colony ships into Fort Hold, Benden Weyr, and Landing, killing thousands along with those who would've died in the assault on Ruatha."

"Shards of my dragon's egg!" Lessa hissed, staring at the two of us.

Turning Kara to me, I wrapped her up in a long, warm hug… one she returned in kind.

"When you first shared your story with me," I told her, tears coursing down my cheeks as I once more squeezed her hands, "I was impressed with the courage you showed in telling me."

Kara smiled, a tiny tear sliding down her own cheek.

"I know all those years without your Ma were painful for you," I went on, tears falling as I gave her hands a second stronger squeeze, "but you have also proven just how strong and brave you are."

"Were our positions reversed," Kara chuckled, grinning shyly at me, "I don't know if I would've shown the same patience as you did with me. Thank you!"

"Beyond all that," I said, planting a grateful kiss on her trembling hands, "I hope you can now see just how important you were in safeguarding the people of Pern and its future!"

Sobbing, Kara threw her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.

"And if you had never come to Pern in the first place," she wept, pulling back to look once more at me, "things here would've turned out a lot differently. Each of us in our own ways had a hand in saving Pern."

Glancing around the table, she added, "We all did!"

"But… I didn't do anything," Kara's Ma argued.

"Yes, you did!" Kara and I simultaneously answered, breaking into giggles as we looked at each other.

"They're right, you know," Lessa remarked, giving the woman's hand a squeeze.

"I don't understand."

"By shoving Kara into that cave," I began.

"You saved my life," Kara finished.

"In saving your daughter from Thread," Lessa said, nodding Kara's way, "she, in turn, when the time came, was able to warn Dana about the Exiles' radio calls. This then allowed Tarnaa's rider to deduce what the Exiles were planning and act to save the lives of everyone in Fort Hold, Benden Weyr, Landing, and Ruatha."

"Quite the series of temporal connections, little sister," Key spoke as he and Dav approached our table.

"It's like Kara said," I responded, giving her a quick hug. "We all had a hand in saving the people of Pern. Please pass on our thanks to Captain Morgan and the crew of the Wolfhound for letting us use the holodecoys."

"Will we see you at the celebration this evening?" Kara asked.

"Sorry, little one," Dav replied with a reluctant shrug. "We just stopped by to let you know we're shoving off!"

"You're not staying?!" Kara gasped.

Both of my Federation friends shook their heads.

"This was only supposed to be a brief investigatory mission," Key explained. "But when Captain Morgan decided to stay and document the Exiles incident…"

"You burned through your reserves," I sighed, knowing full well what that meant.

Turning Kara toward me, I told her, "They have to leave… and soon. If they don't, they won't be able to make it back to their homes before their supplies run out."

Slowly, crestfallen at the imminent loss of her new friends, Kara nodded.

That said, we all headed out to the Weyr bowl where my friends had parked their shuttle. The entire population of Benden Weyr was ranged behind us, waving and shouting farewells. Tears in her eyes, Kara ran up and gave each of my friends a hug.

"We'll miss you… ch'har," Kara whispered, giving my Kendite brother a grateful hug.

"And we will miss you… ch'hin," Key just as quietly responded, returning the hug.

"But, hey!" Dav added, grinning from ear-to-ear. "We know where to find you now! We'll drop in again, sometime!"

"I'm counting on it!" I chuckled, wrapping Dav up in a bone-creaking bear hug.

With final farewells, the crowd backed away as my friends boarded their craft and sealed the hatch. Within moments, the engines roared to life and the Federation shuttle shot skyward, circling Benden Weyr once before disappearing from view.

Then, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the comm unit the kind people of the Wolfhound had let me keep and put it on.

"Wolfhound, this is Angel Zero One," I radioed. "Do you copy?"

"Loud and clear, Sterling," Captain Morgan personally responded.

"Dav and Key are on their way back, Captain," I informed him.

"Sorry we couldn't stay any longer, Dana," he apologized.

"Don't be sorry, Captain," I argued. "You and your crew were of immense help with the Exiles crisis."

"It was a genuine pleasure to meet you, Sterling. I look forward to the next time we can get together."

"As do I, Captain," I replied, a silent tear sliding down my cheek. "To all who serve aboard the Federation vessel Wolfhound, on behalf of all the citizens of Pern, I offer you our most profound and heartfelt thanks for all your assistance. Safe journey to you!"

"Till we meet again!" Captain Morgan replied. "Wolfhound, over and out!"

Kara's Da was the next loose end. He stared in frightened astonishment when his wife appeared at the window of his cell in Fort Hold. He wept like a child when the bailiffs actually let her into the cell.

"Mira!" he gasped, backing into the corner of his cell as she approached. "But… how?"

To her credit, she didn't mention my part in that miracle. Instead, Mira simply planted a gentle kiss on his cheek and left.

Next came the Lords Holder conclave. Dragonriders and harpers galore were also in attendance. It took some fancy persuasion and a repeat performance of my legal argument back at Benden Weyr to ultimately get the point across.

The final decision reached by the Lords Holder was unanimous. The exile was lifted. Those who wanted to return to their previous homes would be allowed to do so. And, as I had promised, I was there on the beach the day Master Idarolan's fleet arrived to begin the exodus.

Still, there were a few who had grown fond of their new home in the islands and didn't want to leave. With assistance from the riders at Southern Weyr, a new weyr was constructed… the Eastern Islands Weyr!

Riders from the seven current weyrs were handpicked to man the site. And, for a time, riders from Southern flew with the new riders of Eastern Islands, passing on that Thread-fighting skill that was unique to tropical climes.

It wasn't long before the Eastern Islands Weyr celebrated their first clutch of dragon eggs. I was on-hand that happy day and wept with joy when Kara was chosen by the solitary queen to hatch.

It had taken a long time and a supremely complicated effort to finally undo the error of the past. Having reunited with my old comrades, I could now look forward to the day I would see them again. At Robinton Cove, the teaching hospital with all its support facilities and personnel, including the dolphin pod, was nearing completion. And, as I watched Kara feeding her newly hatched golden lifemate, hope for the future well-being of every living soul on Pern filled my overflowing heart with joy! What an incredible place to call home!


End file.
